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ADTHOB 09

■DITB LTLE-EDNA BROWNING-TEMPEST AND SUNSHINE-LENA mVEBS-
WJBST LAWN— MARIAN GREY-HUGH WORTHINGTON— ETHfiLYN 3

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1877.

oi-WtS^ (Til

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, ^r'^■•: r., ,.;,

M I L D K E r> .

CHAPTER I.

THB hTOr.M, AND WHAT IT BR0T70HT.

The sultry September day was drawing to
a close, aud as the sun went down, a dark
thunder^cloud came slowly up from the west,
muttering in deep undertonus, aud omitting
occasional gleams of lightning by wa^ of her-
alding the coming storm, from which both
man and beast intuitively sought shelter.
Ere loa({ the streets of xMay field were desert-
ed, save by the handsome carriage and span
•f spirited grays, which went dashing throu&;h
the town toward the large house upon the
hill, the residence of Judge Howell, who paid
no heed to the storm, so absorbetl was he in
\ the letter which he held in his hand, and
which had roufed him to a state of fearful
excitement. Through the gate, aud up the
long avenue, lined with giant trees of maple
and beech, the horses flew, and just as tho
rain came down in torrents they stood pant*
ing before the door of Beech wood.

" Bring me a light I Why isn't there one
already here ?" roared the judge, aa he stalk-
ed into hi? library, and bangea the door with
a crash scarcely equalled by the noise of the
tempest without.

"Got up a little thunder-storm on hibswn ac-
count ! Wonder what's happened him now 1"
muttered Rachel, the coloured housekeeper,
as she placed a lamp upon the table, and
then silently left the room.

Scarcely was she gone when, seating him-
self in his arm-chair, the Judge began to read
again the letter which had so much disturb-
ed him. It was post-marked at a little out-
of-the-way place among the backwoods of
Maine, and it purported to have come from
a young mother, who asked him to adopt a
little girl, nearly two months old.

*' Her family is fully equal to your own,"
the mother wrote ; "and should you take my
baby, you need never blush for her parent-
age. I have heard of you, Judge Howell. I
know that you are rich, that you »;e com-

F»ratively alone, and there are reasons why
would rather my child should go to Beech-
wood than any other spot in the wide world.
You need her, too— need something to com-
fort your old age, for with all your money,
you are far from beirg happy."
"Thedeucel atn!"muttered the Judge. "How

did the trollop know that.or how did she know
of nm, any way ? I take a child to comfort my
old age! Ridiculous I Im not old— I'm
only tifty— just in the prime of life ; but I
hate young ones, and I won't have one in my
house I I'm tormented enough with Uachers
dozen, and if that madame brines hers

here, I'll »

The remainder of the sentence was cut
short by a peal of thunder, so long and loud
that even the exasperated Judge was
still until the roar had died away ; then,
resuming the subject of his remarks, he con-
tinued :

"Thanks to something, this letter has
been two weeks on the road, and as she is
tired of looking for an answer by this time, I
sha'n't trouble myself to write— but what of
Richard ? — I have noi yet seen why he is up
there in New Hampshire, chasing after that
Hetty, when he ought to have been hom#
weeks ago;" and taking from his pocko
another and an unopened letter, he read why
his only son and heir of all his vast posses-
sions was in New Hamshire " chasing aftet
Hetty," as he termed it

Hetty Kirby was a poov relation, whom
the Judge's wife had taken into the family,
and treated with the utmost kindness and
consideration ; on her death-bed she had
committed the young girl to her husband'*
care, bidding him be kind to Hetty 'or hei
sake. In Judge Howell's crusty heart there
was one soft, warm spot — the memory of hii
wife and beautiful young daughter, the lattei
of whom died within a few months after hei
marriage. They had loved the orphan Hetty,
and for their sakes, he had kept her unti'
accident revealed to him the fac-t that to hit
son, then little more than a boy, thore was nc
music so sweet as Hetty't voice— no lighl
so bright as that which shone in Hetty'r '
eye.

Then the lion was roused, and he turned
her from his door, while Richard wa»
threatened with disinheritance if he dared tc
think again of the humble Hetty. Thert
was no alternative birt to submit, for Judge
Howell's word was laio, and, with a sar
farewell to what had been her home so long,
Hetty went back to the low-roofed hous*
among the granite hills, where her moth*'

MITDRED.

mid halfimbecile grandmother were liv-
ing.

Uichard, too, returned to college, and from
tluit time no'ufi word had passed Wetsveon the
father and tlie hou c()iioernin« the ofTfiding
Hetty until now, when llichard wrote tiiat
ehu was dead, togetlier with her grandmother
— that n«wsof lier illnoas had been forwarded
to him, and immtdiattly after leaving
college, in July, he had hastened to
Kew Hampshire, and stayed by her until she
died.

" You can curse me for it if you choose,"
he said, " but it will not make the matter
better. I loved Hetty Kirby while living, I
love her memory now that she id dead ; and
in that little grave beneath the bill I have
buried my heart forever."

The letter closed by saying that Richard
would possibly be home that uight, and he
asked that the carriage might be iu waiting
at the depot.

The news of Hetty's death kept the judge
silent for a moment, while his heart gave one
great throb as he thought of the fair-haired,
blue-eyed girl, who had so often ministered
to his comfort,

'• Poor thing, she's in heaven, I'm sure,"
he said ; " and if I was ever harsh to her,
it s too late to help it now. I always liked
her well enough, but I did not like her
making love to Hichard. He'll got over it,
too, even if he does talk about his heart
being buried in her grave. Stuff and non-
sense ! Just as if a boy of twenty knows
where his heart is. Needn't tell me. He'll
come to his senses after he's been homo a
spell, and that reminds me that I must seud
the carriage for him. Here Ruth," he con-
tinued, as he saw a servant passing in the
hall, ' ' tell Joe not to put out the horses, or
if he has, to harness up again. Richard is
coming home, and he must meet him at the
station."

Ruth departed with the message and the
Judge again took up the letter in which a
child had been offered for his adoption.
Very closely he scrutinized the handwriting,
but it was not a familiar one to him. He
had never seen it before, and, tearing the
paper in pieces, he scattered them upon the
floor.

The storm by this time had partially sub-
sided, and he heard the carriage wheels
grinding into the gravel as Joe drove from
the house. Half an hour went by, and then
the carriage returned again ; but Richard
was not in it, and the father sat down alone
to the supper kept in waiting for his son. It
was a peculiarity of the''Judge to retire pre-
cisely at nine o'clock ; neither friend nor foe
could keep him up beyond that hour, he
said ; and on this evening, as on all others,

the lights disappeared from his room just at
tlie nine o'clock bell was iieard in the dis«
tance. But the Jud^^e was nervous to-
night. The thunder which at intervals con-
tinued to roar, made him restless, and ten
o'clock found him even more wakeful than
he had been an hour before.

" What the plague ails me ?" lie exclaimed,
tossing uneasily from side to hide, "and
what the deuce can that be? IJachel's baby
as I live I What is she d(»ing with it here ?
If there's anything I detest, it is a baby's
E(}uall. Just hear that, will you T" and raising
bnnself upon his elbow he listened intently
to what w<w indisputably an infant wail,
rising even above the storm, for it had com<
menoed raining again, and the thunder at
times was fearfully loud.

" Screech away," said the .Judge, as aery,
sharper and more prolonged, fell upon his
ear; "screech away till you split your
throat ; but I'll know why a Christian man,
who hates children, mast bo driven distracted
in his own house," and ste2)pinginto the hall,
he called out at the top of his voice, " Ho,
Rachel !" but no Rachel made her appearance ;
and a little further investigation sufQced to
show that she had retired to the cottage in
the back yard, which, in accordance with a
Southern custom, the Judge, who was a Vir*
ginian, had built for herself atid her hus-
band. Rachel was also a native of Virginia,
but for many years she had lived at Beech*
wood, where she was now the ])residing gen-
lua — and the one servant whom the Judge
trusted above all others. But she had one
great fault, at which her master chafed ter-
ribly ; she had nearly as many children as
the fabled woman who lived in a shoe. In-
deed there seemed to be no end to the little
darkies who daily sunned themselves upon
the velvety sward in front of their cabin
door, and were nightly stowed away in three
wide trundle-beds, which Rachel brought
forth from unheard-of hiding-places, and
made up near her own. If there was one
thing in the world more than another which
the Judge professed to hate, it was children,
and when Rachel innocently asked him to
name her twelfth, he answered wrathfully :

"A dozen — the old Harry ! — call it FlNI9
— and let it be so — do you hear ? "

" Yes, marster," was the submissive an-
swer, and so Finis, or Finn, for short, was
the name given to the child, which the
Judge fancied was so disturbing him, as,
leaning over the banister, he called to Ra-
chel, "to stop that noise, and carry B^n
back where he belonged."

" She has carried him back, I do believe,"
he said to himself, as he heard how stiil it
was below, and retiring to his room, he tried
to sleep, and sucueediug so far as to fall

THE STORM AND WHAT IT BROUGHT.

INI3

away into a doze, from which ho was aronaed
by a thunder-crash, which shook the mas-
sive building to it» foundation, and wrung
from the watoh-dog, Tiger, who kept guard
without, a do:kfoning yell.

Hut to neither of these sounds did the
Judge pay the least attention, for, mingled
with them, and continuing after both nad
died away, was tltat same infant wail, tuned
now to a higher, shriller note, as if the little
creature were sutl'ering from fear or bodily
pain.

" Might as well try to sleep in Bedlam ! "
exclaimed the exasperated Judge, stepping
from his bed a second time, and commencing
to dress himself, while his nervousness ana
irritability increased in proportion as tb«
cries grew louder and more alarming.

Striking a light and frowning wrathfully
at the sour, tired-looking visage reile<.ted by
the mirror, he descended the stairs and en-
tered the kitchen, where everything was in
pei-fect order, even to the kindlings laid upon
the hearth for the morning lire. The cries,
too, were fainter there ami could scarcely
be heard at all, but as he retraced his steps
and came again into the lower hall, he heard
them distinctly, and also Tiger's howl.
Guided by the sound, he kept on his way
until he reached the front door, when a
thought flashed upon him which rendered
him for an instant powerless to act. What
if that Maine woman, tired of waiting
for an answer to her letter, had
taken some other way of accomplishing her
purpose ? What if he should find a baby on
his steps ! "But I sha'n't," lie said decidedly;
"I won't, and if 1 do, I'll kick it into the
street, or something," and emboldened by
this resolution he unlocked the door, and
shading the lamp with his hand, peered cau-
tiously out into the darkness.

With a cry of delight Tiger sprang for-
ward, nearly upsetting his master, who
staggered back a pace or two, and then, re-
covering himself, advanced again toward the
open door.

" There's nothing here," he said, thrust-
ing his head out into the rain, which
was dropping fast through the thick
vine leaves which overhung the lattice of the
portico.

As if to disprove this assertion, the heavens
for an instant blazed with light, and showed
him where a small white objecb lay in a wil-
low basket beneath the seat built on either
side of the door. He knew it was not Finn,
for the tiny fingers which grasped the basket
edge were white and pure as wax, while the
little dimples about the joints involuntarily
carried him back to a time when just such
a baby hand as this had patted his bearded
cheek or pulled his long black hair.

Perhaps it was the remembrance of thab
hand, now cold in death, which iiroiniitod
him to a nearer survey of the contents of tlio
basket, and setting down his lamp, l.o
stooped to draw it forth, while Tii,'er stood
by trcra1)ling with joy that his vigils were
ended, and that human aid had cone
at last to the helpless creature ho had
guarded with the faithfulness peculiar to his
race.

It was a fair, round face which met the
Judge's view as he removed the tlannel
blaimet, and the bright, pretty eyes which
looked up into his wore full of tears. But
the Judge hardened his heart, and though he
did not kick the baby into the rain, he felt
stongly tempted so to do, and glancing
toward the cornfield not far away, whore ho
fancied the mother might be watching the re-
sult, he screamed :

"Come here, you madame, and take the
brat away, for I sha'n't touch it, you may
depend upon that."

Having thus relieved his mind, he was
about to re-enter the house, when, as if
divining his intention. Tiger planted his huge
form in the doorway and effectually kept
him back.

"Be quiet. Tiger, be quiet, "said the Judge,
stroking his shaggy mane; but Tiger refused
to move, until at last, as if seized by a sud-
den inbtinct, ho darted toward the basket,
which he took in his mouth, and carried into
the hall.

"It sha'n't be said a brute is more humane
than myself," thought the Judge, and leaving
the dog and the baby together, he stalked
across the yard, and pounding on Rachel's
door, bade her come to the house at
once.

But a few momenta elapsed ere Rachel
stood in the hall, her eyes piotruding like
harvest apples when she saw the basket
and the baby it contained. The twelve
young Van Brunts sleeping in their thn e
trundle-beds, had enlarged her motherly
heart, just as the Judge's lonely condition
had shrivelled his, and, kneeling down, she
took the wee thing in her arms, called it a
"little honey," and then, woman-like, ex-
amined its dress, which was of the finest ma-
terial, and trimmed with costly lace.

" It's none of your low-flung truck," she
said. " The edgin' on its slip cost a heap,
and its petticoats is all worked with floss."

" Petticoats be hanged !" roared the Judge.
" Who cares for worked petticoats? The
question is, what are wo to do with it ?"

"Do with it?" repeated Racliel, hugging
it closer to her bosom. " Keep it, in course.
Tears like it seems mighty nigh to me,"
and she gave it another squeeze, this time
utteiiJig a faint outcry, for a sharp point of

MILDR'^D.

soiiictliing liat1 penetrated the thin folds of
Iier >;ingliam dnss. " 'f liar's sometliin' fas-
tuiieil tu't,'' she said, and, removing the
l)lAiiket, hho saw something pinned to the
iiifiint's waist. "This may 'splaiu the mat-
ter," dlie continued, passing it to the Judge,
who read, in tlie same haud-witing aa the
lett»!r: " God prosper you, Judge Howell, in
i>iii)iortioii as you are kind tuiiiy baby, whom
1 h:ivti called Mildrtd. '

'• Mildred!" repeated tho Judge, " Mil-

a,ed l>e ■"

Muiiiil not finish the sentence, for he
seemed to hear far back in the past, a voice
much like his own, saying aloud :

*' I, Jacob, take thee, Mildred, to bo uiy
wedded wife."

The Mildred taken then in that shadowy
old church had been for years a loving, faith-
ful wife, and another Mildred, too, with
■tarry eyes and nut-l)rown eyes had ditted
through his halls, calling him hor father.
Tha MaMie wohian must surely have known
of this when she gave her offspring the only
name in the world which could posaibly have
touched the Judge's heart. With a perplexed
expression upon his face he stood, rubbing
his hands together, while Bachel launched
forth into a stream of baby talk, like that
with which she was wont to edify her twelve
young blackbirds.

" For Heaven's sake stop that! You fairly
turn my stomach," said the Judge, as she
added the tiuiBhing touch by calling the
child *'apesHU8 ^ttle darlin' dumpliu'l"
"You women are precious big fools with
babiesl"

" Wasn't Miss Milly just as silly as any
on ua ?" asked Rachel, who knew his weak
point; "and if she was here to-night, in-
stead of over Jordan, don't you believe she'd
take the little critter aa her own ?"

"That's nothing to do with it," returned
the Judge. "The question is how shall we
dispose of it — to-night, I mean, for in the
morning I shall see about its beini; taken to
the poor-house."

""The poor-house," repeated Rachel. "Ain't
it writ on that paper, 'The Lord sarve you and
yourn as you sarve her and hern ? ' Thar's a
warnin' in that which I shall mind ef you
don't. The baby ain't a-goin' to the poor-
house, I'll take it myself first. A hen don't
scratch no harder for thirteen than she dees
for twelve, and though Jee ain't no kind o'
count, I can manage somehow. Shall I con-
sider it mine ? "

" Yes, till morning," answered the Judge,
who really had no detinite idea as to what he
intended doing with the helpless creature
thus forced upon him against bis will.

He abhorred children — he would not for
anything h'we one abiding in his house, and

especially this one of so doubtful parentage ;
still ho was not quite incline<l to caat it oti',
an<l he wished there was soino one witli
whom to advise. Then, as he remembercil
tho expected coining of his son, ho thought,
" Richard will tell me what to do ! " and
feeling somewhat relieved ho returned to hib
cliamber, while Rachel hurried otT to her
cabin, where, in a few words, she e.x])lained
the matter to Joe, who, being naturally of n
lazy temperament, was altogether too sleepy
to manifest emotion of any kind, and wan
soon snoring as loudly as ever.

In his rude pine cradle little Finn was
sleeping, and once Rachel thought to iay the
stranger baby with him ; but proud as she
was of her colour and of her youngest born,
too, she felt that there was a dividing line
over which she must not pass, so Finn was
finally removed to the pillow of his siro, the
cradle re-arranged, and the baby carefully
lain to rest.

Meantime, on his bedstead of rosewood.
Judge Howell tried again to sleep, but all in
vain were his attempts to woo tho wayward
goddess, and he lay awake until tho moou,
struggling through the broken clouds, shone
upon the floor. Then, in the distance, he
heard the whittle of the night express, and
knew it was past midnight.

"I wish that Maine woman had been
drowned in Fassamaquoddy Bay ! " said he,
rolling his pillow into a ball and beating it
with his tist. " Yes, I do, for I'Jl be hanged
if I want to be bothered this way ! Hark !
I do believe she's prowling round the house
yet," he continued, as he thouf;ht ho caught
the sound of a footstep upon the gravelled
walk.

He was not mistaken in the sound, and he
was about getting up for the third and, as he
swore to himself, the last time, when a loud
ring of the bell, and a well-known voice,
calling: "Father! father 1 let mo in," told
him that not the Maine woman, but his son
Richard, had come. Hastening down the
stairs, he unlocked the door, and Richard
Howell stepped into the hall, his boots be-
spattered with mud, his clothes Met with the
heavy rain, and his face looking haggard and
pale by the dim light of the lamp his father
carried in his hand.

"Why, Dick!" exclaimed the Judge, "what
ails you ! You are as white as a ;j;ho8t."

"I am tired and sick," was Richard's re-
ply. "I've scarcely slept for several weeks."

"Been watching with Hetty, I dare say,"
thought the Judge ; but he merely said :
"Why didn't you come at scveu, aa you
wrote you would ?"

"I couldn't conveniently," Richard re-
plied ; "and, as I was anxious to get here aa
soon as pessible, I took the niyht express,

THE SlOR\r AND WHAT IT nUOUnHT.

aud

lis son
rn the
lichard
Its b«-
1th the
rd and
Ifather

'what

8 re-

jeks."

say."

said :

i* you

rd re-
lere as

IpresB,

■>

and have walked here from the depot. But
Mrhat id tliatT" ho continued, na he oiitereil
the sittiiic-room, and •wv the willow-biiak-t
•tandini; noar the door.

•'r)icK,"mnl the Judtfo's voice ilropped to a
nervotis wliiHper~"I)iolt, if you'll brliovenie,
•oine iuFurual M:iino woman lias had a baby,
and left it on our atepb. ^She wrote rirst to
know if I'd tako it, but the letter was two
weeks coining. I didn't get it until tonight,
and, as I sui)ih)8o she was tired of waiting,
she brouj^ht it along ri^ht in the midatuf
that thundur-showcr. She might have
known I'd kick it into the street, just as I
said I would— the trollop !"

"Oh, father !" exclaimed tho more hu-
mane young man, "you surely didn't treat
tho innocent child so cnielly I''

"No, I didn't, though my will was good
enough," answered the father. "Just think
of the scandalous reports that are certain to
follow. It will be just like that gossiping
Widow Simnis to get up some confounded
yarn, and involve us both, the wretch! But
I shan't keep it — I shall send it tu the poor-
house. "

And, by way of adding emphasis to his
words, he gave the basket a shove, which
turned it bottom side up, and scattered over
the floor sundry articles of baby-wear, which
had before escaped his observation.

Among these was a tiny pair of red mor-
roooo shoes; for the " Maine woman," as he
called her, had been thoughtful both for the
present and future wants of her child.

" Look, father," says Richard, taking
them up and holding them to the light.
"They are just like those sister Mildred used
to wear. You know mother saved them, be-
cause they were the Krfit ; and you have
them still in your private drawer."

Richard had touched a tender chord, and
it vibrated at once, bringing to his father
memories of a little soft, fat foot, which had
once been encased in a slipper much like the
one Richard held in his hand. The patter of
that foot had ceased forever, and the soiled,
worn shoe was now a sacred thing, even
though the owner had grown up to beautiful
womanhood ere her home was made deso-
late.

" Yes, Dick," he said, as he thought of all
this. "It is like our dear Milly's, and what
s a little myaterioua, the baby is called Mil-
died, too. It was written on a bit of paper,
and pinned upon the dress."

" riien you will keep her, won't you? and
Rjochwood will not be ao lonely," returned
Hi.-'iii'd, continuing after a pause, " Where
h ulic, this little lady t I am anxiouu lo pay
her my respects."

" Down with Rachel, just where she oucht
■> l.e/' said the Judge; aud Richard icjouivd,

" Down with all those negroes T Oh, father,
how could yi)U ! i>uppuae it were your chihl
VMiul I you want it there ?"

"The douce tako it — 'taint mine— there
ain't a drop of Howell blood in its veins, the
Lord knowa, and, as for my laying awake,
feeding aweetuned milk to that Maine wo-
man's brat, I won't do it, and that's theentl
of it. I won't, I say— but I knew 'twould
be just like you to want mo to keep it. You
have the most unaccountable taste, and al-
ways had. There isn't anotheryoung man of
your expectations, who would ever have oared
for thiit "

"Father," aud Richard's hand was laid
upon the Judge's arm. " Father, Hetty it
dead, aud we will let her rest, but if she
had lived I would havecUcd no other wo-
man my wife."

" And the moment you had callel her so,
I would have disinherited you, root and
branch," was the Judge's savage an.iwer. "I
would have seen you and her and your chil*
dren starve before I would have raised my
hand. The heir of Beechwood marry Hetty
Kirby! Why, her father was • blacksmith
and her mother a factory cirl— do you
heart"

Richard made no reply, and, striking an*
other light, he went to his chamber, where
varied aud bitter thoughts kept him wakeful
until the September sun shone upon the wall
and told him it was morning. In the yard
below he heard tho souna or Rachel's voice,
and was reminded by it of the child left
there the previous night. He would see it
for himself, he said, and, making a hasty
toilet, he walked leisurely down the well-
worn path which led to the cottage door.
The twelve were all awake, and, as he drew
near, a novel sight presented itself to his
view. In the rude pine cradle, the baby lay,
while over it the elder Van Brunts were
bending, engaged in a hot discussion as to
which should have "the little white nigger
for their own." At the approach of Richard
their noisy clamour ceased, and they fell
back reapectfully as he drew near the cradle.
Richard Howell was exceedingly fond of
children, and more than one of Rachel's
dusky group had heboid upon his lau, hence
it was, perhaps, that he parted so gently the
silken rings of soft brown hair clustering
around the baby's brow, smoothed the vel-
vety cheek, and even kissed the parted lips.
The touch awoke the child, who seemed in-
tuitively to know that the face bending so
near to its own was a friendly one, and,
when Richard took it in his arms, it offered
n ) rosist.ince, but ratlin • lovingly nestled its
little lie.id upon his shoulder, as he wrapped
itsbl.'iiikct carefully about it, and started for
the housv.

tkllLUliKD.

CHAPTKR II.

VIL.LAOIOOSBIP.

Littlo MiKlru»\ ky in the willow banket,
whole i{iolianl Hitw U hail placed la-r wlioa
li« l)ruu>{iib her I'ro u tlie cabin. Jklwecu
liiiuielf aud fathnr tliere had bcun a a|iiritud
uoutroversy as to what shuuld be done with
hut, thu oue iusititiiig that uhe should be sent
til the pourdiouse, and the other that shu
blkuuld stay at Hecchwood. The diauunnion
luHtt.'d lone, and they were still linf;ering at
tho breakfast tiblu, when Kaohel caino in,li«r
api't'Ai't^uue indifatini< that she was the
lit urcr of some important message.

" If you pleaao," she began, addrossing
hersulf to the Judge, " I've just been down
to Cold Spring after a bucket o' water, fur I
feel mighty like a strong cup of hyson this
niurniii', beiu' I was so broRe of my rest,
and the pump won't make such a cup a^

Cold Spring "

" Never mind the pump, bub come to the
point at ouco," interposed the Judge, glan-
cing toward the basket with a presentiment
tluit what she had to tell couoeruod the little
Mildred.

" Yes, that's what I'm coming to, ef I
ever get thar. You see I ain't an atom gos-
sipy, laut bein' that tho Thompson door was
wideo^un, and looked iuvitin' like, I thought
I'd go in a minit, and after iilliu' my bucket
with water — though come to think on't, I
ain't sure I had tilled it — had I T Let me

800—1 b'liove I had, though I ain't sure "

RHchcl was extremely conscientious, and
H" amount of coaxing could have tempted
her to go on until she had settled it oatiii-
facto>ily as to whether the bucket was
tilled or not. This the Judge knew, and he
Wiiitcd patiently until she decided that "the
bucket v'cis fUli-il, or else it wasn't, one or
t'other," any way, she left it on the grass,
■he said, and went into Thompson's, where
•he found Aunt Hepsy " choppin' cabbage
and snappin' at tho boy with the twisted
feet, who was catching flies on the winder.
" I didn't go in to tell 'em anything in

Particular, but when Miss Hawkins, in the
edroom, give a kind of lonesome Htthe,
^^llic)) I knew was for dead Bessy, I thouglit
I'd speak of our baby that come last night
in the basket ; so I told 'em how't you want-
ed to send it to the poor-house, but I
wouldn't let you, and was goin' to nuss it
and fetch it up as my own, and then Miss
Hawkins looked up kinder sorry-like, and
says, ' Rather than suffer that, I'll take it in
place of my little Bessy.'

" You or'to of seen Aunt Flepsy then — but
I didn't stay to hear her blow. I clipped it
home as fast as ever I could, and left my
bucket settin' by the spring."

" So you'll liave no difficulty in ascertain-

ing whether you filled it or not," ilylv ung-

{[osted Richard. Then, turning to his father,
10 continued, "It Htrikes mo favourably,
tins lotting Hannah Hawkins take the chiUl,
inasmuch as y^ou are so nrejudiued against it.
She will bo kind to it, I'm sure, and I shall
go down to see her at once."

There was something so cool and deter*
mined in Richard's manner, that the Judge
gave up the contest without another word,
and silently watched his son as he hurried
along the beaten path which led to the Cold
Spring.

Down the hill, and where its gable roof
was just di^iccrniblo from tho windows of the
Ituechwood mansion, stood the low, browD
house, which, for many years, had been
tenanted by Hezekiah Thompson, and which,
after Ins decease, was still 0RCUi)ied by
Hepsabah, his wife. Only one child had
been given to Hepsabah~a gentle, blue-eyed
tlau^hter, who, after six years of happy wife*
hood, returned to her mother — a widow,
with two little fatherless children — one a
lame, unfortunato boy, and the other •
beautiful little girl. Toward the boy with
the twisted feet, Aunt Huj)8y, as she was
called, looked askance, while all the kinder
I feelings of her nature seemed called into
being by the sweet, yrinning ways of the
baby Bessy; but when one bright September
day they laid tho little one away beneath
the autumnal grass, and canio back to their
home without her, she steeled her heart
•igainst the entire world, and the wretched
Hannah wept on her lonely pillow, un-
cheered by a single word of comfort, save
those her little Oliver breathed into her ear.
Just one week Bossy had lain beneath the
maples when Rachel bore to the cottage news
of the strange child loft at the masters door,
and instantly Hannah's heart yearned to*
ward the helpless infant, which she offered
to take for her own. At first her mother op*
posed the plan, but when she saw how de*
termiued Hannah was, she gave it up, and in
a most unamiabld frame of mind was clearing
her breakfast dishes away, when Richard
Howell appeared, asking to see Mrs. Haw*
kins. Although a few years older than him*
self, Hannah Thompson had been one of
Richard's earliest playmates and warmest
friends. He know her disposition well, and
knew she could be trusted ; and when she
promised to love the little waif, whose very
helplessness had interested him in its behalf,
he felt sure that she would keep her word.

Half an hour later and Mildred lay sleep-
ing in Bessy's cradle, as calmly as if she
were not tho subject of the moat wonderful
surmises and ridiculous conjectures. On the
w ings of the wind tho story tlew that a baby
had been left ou Judge Howell's steps — that

^ ■'

VIl.LAiJE Clu: IP

saT9

Weep-
fif she
lerful
|ath«
I baby
-that

tlio •Tiii1;{(' had swiH'ii it Mhuulil he sfiit ro the
pnor-hoiiMt!-, while i\\v nou, who uuiuc Imiituiit
tWflve oVh'ck at iiiulit, oitvt rt-d witli iiiud
and wut to ihu Hkiit. had cvincud fur
inoro iiituK'Ht in thu hI ranger tlian wuh
at all coMiiuisudablc fur a huy Bcvrculy out of
liis tCltUM.

*' Ihit there was no telljn' what young
buekH would do, or old oiieu t itiier, for that
mutter!" «o at loast paid V^ idow SinmiH, the
Judgo'n hu^^hoar, as she donned her Hhaker
and piilin l«af Hlmwl, and hurried acroM the
i\Ai\» in the direetioii of f'ee'iiwood, feeling
gruatly ndievoil to lind that the object of her
aeareh wan farther down the hill, for she
stood poniowhnt in awo of the Judge, and his
proud son. Hut onue in Hannah Hawkins'
Dedrooin, with her shaker nn the tloor and
the baby on her lap, her tongue was loos-
ened, and Bcarcidy a persen in the town who
could by any nos^iblo means have been at all
connoctod witli the affair, escaped a malici-
ous cut. The infant was then minutely
examined, and pronounced the very image of
the Judge, or of Cajjtain Harrington, or
of Dcaooa Snyder, she could not tell
which.

"But I'm bonnd to find out," she said; "I
•ha'n't rest easy nights till I do."

Then suddenly remembering that a kindred
spirit, Polly Dntton, who lived some distance
away, had probably not yet heard the news,
she fastened her pabn-lenf shawl with her
broken-headed darning-nee<lle, and hade Mrs.
Hawkins good-momin<; just as a group of
other visitors was announced.

All that day, and for many succeeding ones
the cottage was crowded with curious peopU,
who had come to see the sight, and all of
whom otl'ered an opinion as to the parentage
of the child. For more than four weeks a
bevy of old women, with Widow Simms and
Folly Dutton at their head, sat upon the
character of nearly every person they knew,
and when at last the sitting was ended and
the rerdict rendered, it was found that none
had passed the ordeal so wholly unscathed as
Richard Howell. It was a little strange,
they admitted, that he should go to Kiah
Thompson's cottage three times a day ; but
then he had always bepn extremely fond of
children, and it was but natural that he
should take an interest in this one, particu-
larly as hia father had 6t>t his face so firmly
against it, swearing heartily if its name were
mentioned in his presence, and even threaten-
ing to prosecute the Widow Simms if she ever
a-^ain prosiimed to say that the brat resem-
bled hini or his.

With a look of proud disdain upon his
handsome, bi)yish face, Richard, who on
account of big delicate health had not return-
ed to college, heard from time to time what

i\\« gosfipini; villn^crs had toilay of himrell
and wlieii at biHt it was told to him that h
WiiH ex<>n<iated from all bhime, niid that
► OHIO had eviii j>n(li:ted \\ liat the n «ult
woiiM be. Wire hin interest in the laby tit
continue until nhe were grown twonianhood,
be burnt into a mtviry laugh, the tirst which
had eHoaped him siuue ho caniu back to
Bee(di\*(»od.

"Stranger thingH than that had happened,"
Widow Simms declared, and she held many
a whispered conference w itii Hannah Haw-
kins as to the future, when .Mildred would
be the unstress of Heeehwood, uulfss, indeed,
Pichurd died before she were grown, an
event which seemed not improbuble, for as
the autumn days wore on and thu winter
advanced, his failing streiiuth became mure
and mure perceptible, and the same uld
ladies, who once before had taki^n his case
into consideration, now looked at him through
medical eyes, and pronounced him just guue
with consumption.

Nothing but a soa voyage would save him,
the physician said, and that to a warm,
balmy climate. So when the spring came,
he engaged a berth on board a vessel bound
for the South Sea Islands, and after a pil-
grimage to the obscure New Hamntthirc t<»wn
where Hetty Kirby was buried, he came
back to Reechwood one April night to bid his
father adieu.

It was a stormy farewell, for loud, angry
words were heard issuing from the library,
and Rachel, who played the part of eaves-
dropper, testified to hearing Richard say :
"Listen to me, father, I have not tohl you
all." To which the Judge reai.onde.1, "I'll
stop my ears before I'll hoar another word.
You've told me enough alr<'ady ; and, from
this hour, you are no son of mine. Leave me
at once, and my curse go with you."

With a taco as white as marble, Richard
answered, " I'll go, father, and it may be wo
shall never meet again ; but, in the lonesome
years to come, when you are old and
sick, and there is none to love you, you'll
remember what you've said to me to-
night."

The Judge made no rejily, and without
another word Richard turned away. Hasten-
ing down the Cold Spring' ]iath. he entered
the gable-roofed cottage, but what passed
between himself and Hannah Hawkins no
one knew, though all fancied it concerned the
beautiful baby Mildred, who had grown
strangely into the love of the young man, and
who now, as he took her from her crib, put
her arms around his neck, and rubbed her
face against his uwn.

"Be kind to her, Hannah," he said.
•' There are none but ourselves to care for her
now ;" and laying her back in her cradle, h*

MILDRED.

kissed her lipb .. . hastened away, while
Hanuah looked 'ully after him, wouder-
ing muoh what the eud would b«.

; I

m^r

CHAPTER IIL

KINE YEABS LATER.

Nine times the April flowers had blossomed
and decayed ; nine times the summer fruits
h%d ripened and the golden harvest been
gathered in ; nine years of change had come
and gone, and up the wooded avenue which
led to Judge Howell's residence, and also to
the gable-roofed cottage, lower down the
hill, two children, a boy and a girl, were
slowly wending their way. The day was
calm and bright, and the grass was as
fresh and green as when the summer rains
were falling upon it, while the birds were
unsing of their nests in their far off south
bid, whither ere long they would go. But
n*. of Jie birds, nor the grass, nor the day,
was the little girl thinking, and she did not
even stop to steal a flower or a stem of box
from the handsome grounds of the cross old
man, who many a time had screamed to her
from adistance, bidding her quit her childish
depredations ; neither did she pay the least at-
tention to the old decrepit Tiger, as he trotted
slowly down to meet her, licking her bare
feet and looking wistfully into her face as if
he would ask the cause of her unwonted sad-
ness.

" Come this way, Clubs," she said to her
companion, as they reached a point where
two paths diverged from the main road, one
leading to the gable-roof, and the other to
the brink of n rushing stream, which was
sometimes dignified with the name of river.
"Come down to our play-house, where we
can be alone, while I tell you something
dreadful"

Clu's, as he was called, from his twisted
feet, obeyed, and, in a few moments, they
sat upon a mossy bank beneath the syca-
more, where an humble playhouse had been
built — a playhouse seldom enjoyed, for the
life of that little girl was not a free and
easy one.

"Now, Milly, let's have it;" and the
boy Clubs looked inquiringly at her.

Bursting into tears she hid her face in his
lap and sobbed :

"Tell me true— true as you live and
breathe— ain't I your sister Milly, and if I
ain't, who am I ? Ain't I anybody ? Did I
rain down as Maria Stevens said I did ?"

A troubled, perplexed expression fitted
over the palo face of the boy, who awkward-
ly smoothing the brown head resting on his
patched pantaloons, he answered :

" Who told you that story, Milly ; I hoped
it would be long before you heard it !"

"Then 'tis true, — 'tis true; and that's
why grandma scolds mc so, and gives me
such stinchin' pieces of cake, and not half
as much bread and milk as I can cat. Oh,
dear, oh, dear — ain't there anybody any-
where that owns me? Ain't I anybody's
little girl?" and the poor child sobbed pas-
sionately.

It had come to her that day, for the first
time, that she was not Mildred Hawkins,
as she had supposed herself to be, au<l
'joupled with the tale was a taunt concern-
ing her uncertain parentage. But Mildred
was too young to understand the hint; she
only comprehended tliat she was nobody —
that the baby Bessy she had seen so often in
her dreams was not her sister — that the
gentle, loving woman, who had died of con-
sumption two years before, was nothing but
her nurse — and worse than all the rest, the
meek, patient, self-denying Oliver, or Clubs,
was not her brother. It was a cruel thing
to tell her tlus, and Maria Stevens would
never have done it, save in a burst of pas-
sion. But the deed was done, and like a
leaden weight Mildred's heart had lain in
her bosom that dreary afternoon, which, it
seemed to her, would never end. Anxiously
she watched the sunshine creeping along
the floor, and when it reachec' the four
o'clock mark, and her class, which was the
last, was called upon to spell, she drew a
long sigh of relief, and taking her place,
mechanically toed the mark, a ceremony
then never omitted in a New England
sohooL

But alas for Mildred; her evil genius was
in tho ascendant, for the first word which
came to her was missed, as was the next,
and the next, until she was ordered back to
her seat, there to remain until her lesson
was learned. Wearily she lay her throbbing
head upon the desk, while the tears dropped
fast upon the lettered page.

"Grandma will scold so hard and make
me sit up so late to-night," she thought, and
then she wondered if Clubs would go hon.e
without her, and thus prevent her from aslv
ing him what she so much wished to know.

But Clubs never willingly desirted tie
little maiden, and when at last her lestoi
was learned and she at liberty to go, she
found him by the road-side piling up sand
with his twisted feet, and humming a mourn-
ful tune, which he always eaug when Mil-
dred was in disgrace.

" It was kind in you to wait," she said,
taking his offered hand. " Yon are renl
good to me;" then, as she remembered thiit
sho was nothing to him, her lip began to
quiver, and the great tears rolled down her
checks a second time.

NINE YFAES LATER.

and that's

gives me

d not h.ilF

cat. Oh,
■body any-

anyboily's
obbed pas-

or the first
I Hawkins,
} be, aud
nt concern-
lut Mildred
\e hint; shu
8 nobody —

so often in
—that the
ied of con-
lothing but
e rest, the
r, or Chibs,
cruel thing
rou8 would
rst of pas-
md like a
iiad lain in
, which, it

Anxiously
ping along
i the four
ch WAS the
she drew a

her

place,

ceremony
England

;enius was

oi'd which
the next,

ed back to
ler lesson
throbbing

rs dropped

and make

lught, and

d go hoii.e

from aslv-

, to know.

trtefl tlie
er lestoi

tu go, she
up sand
a mourn-

vhen Mil-
she said,
are real

jereel thsit
began to

dowu her

*' Don't, Millv," said the boy soothingly.
" I'll help you if she scolds too hard."

Mildred made no reply, but suir(;red him
to think it was his grandmother's wrath she
dreaded, until seated on the mossy bank,
when she told him what she had heard, and
appealed to him to know if it were true.

"Yes, Milly," he said at length, "'tis
true ! You ain't my sister I You ain't
any relation to me 1 Nine years ago,
this month, you were left in a basket
on Judge Ifowell's steps, and they say
the Judge was going to kick you into the
street, but Tiger, who was young then, took
the basket in hia mouth and brought it into
the hall !"

Involuntarily Mildred wound her arms
around the neck of the old dog, who lashed
the ground with his tail, and licked her
hand as if he knew what it were all
about.

Clubs had never heard that she was taken
to Rachel's cabin, so he told her next of the
handsome, dark-eyed, Hichard, and without
knowing why, Mildred's pulses quickened as
she heard of the young man who befriended
her and carried her himself to the gable-
roof.

*'l was five years old then," Oliver said ;
"and I just remember his bringing you in,
with your great long dress hanging most to
the floor. He must have liked you, for he
used to come every day to see you till he
went away 1"

" \Vent where. Clubs ? Went where?" and
Mildred started up, the wild thought flasli;
log upon her that she would follow him even
to the ends of the earth, for if he had be-
friended her once he would again, and her
desolate heart warmed toward the unknown
Richard, with a strange feeling uf love. "Say,
Clubs, where is he now ?" she continued,
as Oliver hesitated to answer. "He
is not dead — you aha'ii't tell me that 1"

"Not dead that I ever heard," returned
Oliver ; "though nobody knows where he is.
He went to the South Sea Islands, and then
to India. Mother wrote to him once, but he
never answered her 1"

"I guess he's dead then,' said Mildred, and
her tears flowed fast to the memory of
Richard Howell, far ofF on the plains of
Bengal.

Ere long, however, her thoughts took
another channel, and turning to Oliver, she
said :

"Didn't mother know who I was ?"

Oliver shook his head and answered : "If
she did she never told, though the night she
burst that blood-vessel and died so suddenly,
she tried to say something abn^t you, for phe
kept gasping * Milly is— Milly is—' and when

she*;onldn't tell, she pointed toward Eeech-
wood."

"Clubs 1" and Mildred's eyes grew black ,19
midnight, as she looked into the boy's face,
"Clubs, Judge IJowell is my/a(her ! for don't
you mind once that the widow Simms said I
looked like the picture of his beautiful ilaugh-
ter, which hat)g3 in the great i^irlour. I
mean to go up there some day, and ask hint
if he ain't."

"Oh, I wouldn't 1 I wouldn't !" exclaimed
Oliver, '^tterly confounded at the idru of
Mildred's facing the crusty, ill-natured
Judge, and asking if he were not her father
"He'd pound you with his gold-headed cane.
He hates you !" and Oliver^ voice sunk to a
whisper. He hates you because they do Foy
you look like him, and act like him, too,
when you are mad."

This last remark carried Mildred's thoughts
backward a little, and for several momenta
she sat perfectly still ; then leaving Tiger,
whom all the time she had been fondling, she
came to Oliver's side, passed her hands
caressingly over his face, smoothed his thin,
light hair, timidly kissed his forehead, and
whispered beseechingly :

" I am awful ugly, sometimes, I know. I
scratched you once, Clubs, and stepped on
your ciooked feet, but I love you, oh, you
don't know how much ; and if I ain't your
sister, you'll love me just the same, won't
you, precious Oliver? I shall die if you
don't.^'

There were tears on the meek, patient f.ico
of Oliver, but before he could reply to this
appeal, they were startled by the luud, shrill
cry of

" Mildred — Mildred Hawkins ! — what are
you lazin' -.way here for? I've been to the
school-house and everywhere. March lionie
this minute, I say," and adjusting her iiun-
bowed si)ec8 more firmly on her shaii),
pointed nose, Hepsy Thompson came towai d
the two delinquents, frowning wrathful !y,
and casting furtive glances around her, as if
in quest of Solomon's prescription for chil-
dren who loitered on the road from school.
At the sight of the ogress, Mildred picw
white with fear, while Oliver, winding his
arm proteotingly around her, whispered iu
her ear :

" You are sorry I am not your brother, but
you must be glad that she ain't your granny •'
and ho jerked his elbow toward Aunt
Hepsy, who by this time had come quite
near.

Yes, Mildred was glad of that, and OHvrr'-*
remark was timely, awakening; within her a
feeling of defiance toward the woman •wh*
had so often tyrannized ever her. Instead ot
crying or hiding behind Oliver, as b)hj
generally did when the old lady's temper

MILDRED.

waa at its boiling-point, she answered
bol.lly :

•' I was kept after school for missing, and
then 1 coaxed Clubs out here to tell me who
•who I am, for I know now I ain't
Mildred Hawkins, and you ain't my granny
either."

It would bo impossible to describe the
expression of Hepsy's face, or the attitude of
her person, at that moment, as she stood
with her mouth open, her green calash hang-
ing down her back, her nose elevated, and
her hands uinaised in astonishment at what
she had heard. For a time after Hannah's
deatli, Mrs. Thompson had tolerated Mil-
dred simply because her daughter had loved
her, and she could not wholly cast her oflf;
but after a few weeks she found that the
healthy, active child could be made useful in
various wavs, and had aa opportunity pre-
sented itself, she would not have given her
up. So she kept her, and Midred now was
little more than a drudge, where once
she had been a petted and half-spoiled
child. She washed the dishes, s^vept the
floors, scoured the knives, scrubbed the door-
sill, and latterly she had been initiated
into the mysteries of shoe-closing, an employ-
ment then very common to the women and
children of the Bay State. By scolding and
driving, early and late. Aunt Hepsy man-
aged to make her earn fifteen cents a day,
and as this to her was quite an item, she had
an object for wishing to keep Mildred with
her. Thus it was not from any feeling of
humanity that she with others remained si-
lent as to Mildred's parentage, but simply be-
cause she had an undefined fancy that, if the
world once knew there was no tie of blood
between thfm, she would some day, when
her services were most ueeded, resent the
abuses heaped upon her, and go out into the
WO! Id alone. So when she heard from Mil-
dred herself that she did know — when
tlio words, " You are not my granny," were
hurled at lier defiantly, as it were, she felt as
if something she had valued was wrested
from her, and she stood a moment uncertain
how to act.

But Hepsy Thompson waa equal to al-
most any emergency, and after a little she
recovered from her astonishment, and re-
plied :

" So you know it, do you ? Well, I'm
glad if somebody's saved me the trouble of
telling you how you've lived on us all these
years. S'pnsia I was to turn you out-doors,
where would you go or who would you go
to ?"

Mildred's voice trembled, and the tears
gathered in her large, dark eyes, as she an-
swered :

"Go to mother, if I could find her."

" Your mother !" and a smile of fecorn curl-
ed Hepsy's withered lips. "A pretty mother
you've got. If she'd cast you off when a
baby, it's mighty likely she'd take you
now."

Every word which Hepsy said stung Mil-
dred's sensitive nature, for she felt that it
was true. Her mother bad cast her off, and
in all the wide world there was no one to
care for her, no place she could call her
home, save the cheerless gable-roof, and
even there she had no right. Once a thought
of Richard had flitted across her mind, but it
soon passed away, for he was probably dead,
and if not, he had forgotten her ere this. All
her assurance left her, and burying her face
in Oliver's lap, she moaned aloud :

"Oh, Clubs, Clubs, I most wish I waa
dead. Nobody wants me nowhere. What
shallldo?"

" Do ?" repeated the harsh voice of Hepsy.
"Go home and set yourself to work. Them
shoes has got to be stitched before you go to
bed, so, budge, I say. "

There was no alternative but submission,
and with a swelling heart Mildred followed
the hard woman up the hill and along the
narrow path and into the cheerless kitchen,
where lay the shoes which she must finish
ere she could hope for food or rest.

"Let me take them up-stairs," she said;
"I can work faster alone," and as Hepsy
made no objection, she hurried to her little,
room beneath the roof.

Her head was aching dreadfully, and
her tears came so fast that she could scarcely
see the holes in which to put her needles.
The smell of the wax, too, made her sick,
while the bright sunlight which came in
through the western window made her still
more uncomfortable. Tired, hungry, and
faint, she made but little progress with her
task, and was about giving up in despair,
when the door opened cautiously and Oliver
came softly in. He was a frail, delicate boy,
and since his mother's death Hepsy had
been very careful of him.

"He couldn't work," she said; "and
there was no need of it either, so long as
Mildred wa» so strong and healthy,"

But Oliver thought differently. Many a
time had he in secret helped the little,
persecuted girl, and it was for this purpose
that he had sought her chamber now.

"Grandmother has gone to V\ idow Simms's
to biay till nine o'clock," he said, "and
I've come up to take your place. Look what
I have brouglit you;" and he held to view a
small blackberry pie, which his grandmother
had made for him, and which he had saved
for the hungry Mihlred.

There was no resistincr Oliver, and Mildred^
yielded him her place. Laying her throbbing

VILLAGE nOSSIP.

I was

Wbali

hmmai
"and

|>k what
view a

Imother
saved

lildred'
bobbing

head upon her scanty pillow, she watched
him as he applied himself diligently to her
task. He was not a handsome boy; he was
too pale — too thin — too old -looking for that,
but to Mildred, who knew how good he
was, he seemed perfectly beautiful, sitting
there in the fading sunlight and working so
hard for her.

"Clubs," she said, "you are the dearest
boy in all the world, and if I ever find out
who I am and happen to be rich, you shall
share with me. I'll give you more than
half. I wish I could do something for you
now, to show how n-uch I love you."

The needles were suspended for a moment,
while the boy looked through the window
far off on the distant hills where the sunlight
still was sliining.

"I guess I shall be dead then," he said,
" but there's one thing you could do now,
if you would. I don't mind it in other folks,
but somehow it always hurts me when you
call me Clubs. I can't help my bad-shaped
feet, and I don't cry about it as I used to do,
Dor pray that God would turn tliem back
again, for I know He won't. I must walk
backwards all my life, but, when I get to
Heaven, there won't be any bad boys there
to plague me and call me Heel-foot or Cluha !
Mother never did; and almost the first thing
I remember of her she was kissing my poor
crippled feet and dropping tears upon them t"

Mildred forgot to eat her berry pie; forgot
her aching head — forgot everything in ner
desire to comfort the boy, who, for the first
time in his life, had, in her presence, mur-
mured at his misfortune.

" I'll never call you Clubs again," she
■aid, folding her arms around his neck. " I
love your crooked feet ; I love every speck
of you, Oliver, and, if I could, I'd give you
my feet, though they ain't much handsomer
than yours, they are so big !" and she stuck
up a short, fat foot, which, to Oliver,
Beemed the prettiest he had ever seen.

*^No, Milly," he said, "I'd rather be the
deformed one. I want you to grow up
handsome, as I most know you will 1" and,
resuming his task, he looked proudly at the
bright little face, which bade fair to be
wondrously beautiful.

Mildred did not like to work if she ceuld
help ic, and, climbing upon the bed, she lay
there while Oliver stitched on industriously.
But her thoughts were very busy, for she
was thinking of the mysterious Richard,
wondering if he was really dead, and if he
ever had thought of her when afar on the
Southern seas. Then, as she remembered
having heard that his portrait hung in the
drawing-room at Beech wood, she felt a
strong desire to see it ; and why couldn't
she ? Wasn't she going up there, some day,

to ask the Judge if he were not her father?
Yes, she was ! and so she said again to
Oliver, telling him how she meant to oe real
smart for ever so long, till his grandmother
was good-natured and would let her go. 81ie
would wear her best calico gown and dimity
pantalets, while Oliver snould carry his

Grandfather's cane, by way of imitating the
udge, who might thus be more impressed
with a sense of his greatness.

Although he lived so near, Oliver had
never had more than a passing glance of the
inside of the great house on the hill, and
now that the first surprise was over, he
began to feel a pleasing interest in the idea
of entering its spacious halls with Mildred.
They would go some day, he said, and he
tried to frame a good excuse to give tlie
Judge, who might be inclined to let them in.
Mildred, on the contrary, took no forethought
as to what she must euy ; her M'its always
came when needed, and, while Oliver was
thinking, she fell away to sleep, resting so
quietly that she did not hear him go below
for the bit of tallow candle necessary to
complete his task ; neither did she see him
when his work was done, bend over her as
she slept. Very gently he arranged her
pillow, pushed back the hair which had
fallen over her eyes, and then, treading softly
on his poor warped feet, he left her room
and sought his own, where his grandmother
found him sleeping, when at nine o'clock
she came home from Widow Simms's.

Mildred's chamber was visited next, the
old lady started back in much surprise,
when, instead of the little figure bending
over her bench, she saw tlie shoes ail
finished and put away, while Mildred, too,
was sleeping — her lips and hands stained
with the berry pie, a part of which lay
upon the chair.

"It's Oliver's doings," old Hepsy mutter-
ed, while thoughts of his crippled feet rose
up in time to prevent an explosion of her
wrath.

She could maltreat little Mildred, who had
no mar or blemish about her, but she could
not abuse a deformed boy, and she went si-
lently down the stairs, leaving Oliver to his
dreams of Heaven, where there were no
crippled boys, and Mildred to her dreams of
Richard, and the time when she would go to
Beechwood, and claim Judge Howell for her
sire.

CHAPTER IV.

OLIVBR AND MILDRED VISIT BEECMWOOD.

Mildred still adhered to her resolution of
being amart, as she termed it, and had suc-
ceeded so far in pleasing Mrs. Thompson tlL-it
the old lady reluctantly souseated to giving

MILDRED.

her a hilf holiday, and letting hor go with
Oliver to ReechwooJoiie Saturday afternooti.
At first Oliver objected to accompanying her,
for he conld not orercome his dread of the
cross Judi^e, who, having conceived a dislike
for Mildred, extended that dislike oven to
the inoffensive Oliver, always frowning
wrathfuUy at him, and aeldoin speaking to
liim a civil word. Tha girl Mildred the Judge
had only seen at a aisiM^oe, for he never
went near the gable-roof, and as he read his
prayers at St. Luke's, while Hepsy screamed
liera at the Methodist chape], there was no
chance of his meeting her at church. Neither
did he wish to see her, for po many stories had
been fabricated concerning himself and thelit-
tlegirl, that he professed tohate thesoundof her
name. He knew her figure, though, and never
didshe pass down the avenue,andoutintothe
highway, on the road to school, but ho saw
her from his window, watching her until out
if sight, and wondering to himself who she
*vas, and why that Maine woman had let her
alone so long 1 It was just the same when
fhe came back at ni<{ht. Judge Howell
knew almost to a minute when the blue
pasteboard bonnet and spotted calico droRs
would enter the gate, and hence it was that
juat so sure as she stopped to pick a flower
or stem of box (a thing she seldom failed to
do), just so sure was ho to sct';am at the top
of his voice :

"Quit that, you trollon, anil be cL, I
say."

Once she had answered back ;

•' Vow, yow, yow t who's afraid of you,
old cross-patch ! " while through the dusky
twilight he had discerned the Nourish of a
tiny tist !

Nothing pleased the Judge more than ijrll,
as he called it, and shaking his portly sides,
he returned to the house, leaving the auda-
cious child to gather as many flowers as she
pleased. In spite of his professed aversion,
there was, for the judge, a strange fascina-
tion about the little Mildred, who, on one
Saturday afternoon, was getting herself in
Tcadiness to visit him in his fortress. Great
Dains she took with her soft, brown hair,
brushing it until her arm ached with the ex-
ercise, and then smoothing it with her hands
intil it shone like glass. Aunt Hepsy
Thompson was very neat in her household
•rrangements, and the calico dress which
Mildred wore was free from the least taint of
dirt, as w«re the dimity pantalets, the child's
especial pride. A sting of blue wax beads
was suspended from her iieck, and when her
little straw bonnet was tied on, her toilet
was complete.

Oliver, too, entering into her spirit, had
spent far more time than usual before the
cracked lookiug-glass which hung upon the

the wall ; but he was ready at last, and id*
S'led forth, equipped in his best, even to the
cane which Mildred had purloined from its
hiding-place, and which she kept concealed
until Reply's back waa turned, when she
adroitly slipped it into his hand and hurried
him away.

It was a lazy October day, and here and
there a gay-coloured leaf was dropping
silently from the trees, which grew around
Beechwood. In the garden through which
the children passed, for the sake of coming
first to Rachel's cabin, many bright aHtnmnu
flowers were in blossom ; but for once Mil-
dred's fingers left them untouched. She
was too intent upon the house, which, with
its numerous chimneys, balconies, and win-
dows, seemed to frown gloomily down upon
her.

*' What shall you say to the Judge t" Oli-
ver asked, and Mildred answered :

" I don't know what I shall say, but if he
aassea me, it's pretty likely I shall toM him
back."

Just then Rachel appeared in the
door, and, spying the two children
as they came through the garden-gate, she
shaded her eyes with her tawny hand to be
sure she saw aright.

"Yes, 'tis Mildred Hawkins," she said;
and she cast a furtive glance backward
through the wide hall, toward the sitting-
room, where the Judge sat dozing in his wil-
low chair.

" Was it this door, under these steps, that
I was left?" asked Mildred in a whisper, but
before Oliver could reply, Rachel had ad*
vanced to meet them.

Mildred was not afraid of her, for the
good-natured negress had been kind to her
in various ways, and, going boldly forward,
she said:

" I've come to see Judge HowelL Is he at
home?"

Rachel looked aghast, and Mildred, think-
ing she would not state her principal reason
for wishing to see him, continued, *' I want
to see the basket I was brought here in and
everything."

"Do you know then? Who told you?"
and Rachel looked inquiringly at Oliver, who
answered: •' Yes, she knows. They told her
at school. "

The fact that she knew gave her, in Ra-
chel's estimation, some right to come, and,
motioning her to be very cautious, she said:
"The basket is up in the garret. Come still,
so as not to wake up the Judtje," and taking
off her own shoes by way of example, she led
the way through the hall, followed by Oliver
and Mildred, the latter of whom could not
forbear pausing to look in at the room where
the Judge sat unconsciously nodding ather.

^1*^

OI-IVER AND MILDllED VISIT BEECH WOOD

last, and ia-
, even to the
aed from its
)t concealed
1, when she
and hurried

id here and
,8 dropping
;rew around
ough which
e of cominsr
;ht aHtumniu
or once Mil-
uched. She
which, with
ss, and win-
f down upon

Fudge t^Oli-

ay, but if lie

hall icus him

red in the

ro children

[en-gate, she

hand to be

** she said}

e backward

the sitting-

i;; in his wil-

je steps, that

whisper,but

[lel had ad<

ler, for the
kind to her
lly forward,

elL Is heat

dred, think*

ipal reason

Bcl, " I want

here in and

told you?"
t Oliver, who
hey told her

her, in Ra-
ceme, and,
us, she said:
Come still,
' and takins
iple, she led
etl by Oliver
m could not
room where
ding ather.

^1^

"Come away," whispered Oliver, but
Mildred would not move, and she stood gaz-
ing at the Judge as if he had bceu a caged
lion.

Just then finis, who, being really the last
and youngest, was a spoiled child, yelled
lustily for his mother. It was hazardous not
to go at his bidding, ami, telling the children
to stand still till she returned, Rachel hur-
I ied away.

" Now then," said Mildred, spying the
drawing-room door ajar, "we'll have a good
time by ourselves," and, taking Oliver's
hand, she walked boldly into the parlour,
whore the family portraits were hanging.

At first her eye was perfectly dazzled with
the elccance of which she bad never dreamed,
but, as she became somewhat accustomed to
it, she began to look about and make her ob-
servations.

"Isn't this glorious, though I Wouldn't
I like to live here I" and she set her little
foot hard down upon the velvet carpet.

"Good afternoon ma'am," said Oliver in
his meekest tone, and Mildred turned just
in time to see him bow to what he fancied
to be a beautiful young lady smiling down
upon them from a gilded frame.

*' The portraits I the portraits I" she cried,
clapping her hands together, and in an instant
she stood face to face with Mildred Howell,
of the " starry eyes and nut-brown hair."

But why should that picture affect little
Mildred so strangely, causing her to hold her
breath and gaze up at it with childish awe.
It was very, very beautiful, and hundreds
had admired its girlish loveliness ; but to
Mildred it brought another feeling than that
of admiration — a feelim; as if that face had
looked at her many a time from the old,
cracked glass at home.

"Oliver," she said, " what is it about the
lady ? Who is she like, or where have I seen
her before t"

Oliver was quite as perplexed as herself ;
for the features of Mildred Howell seemed
familiar even to him. He had somewhere
seen their semblance, but he did not think of
looking for it in the little girl, whose face
grew each moment more and more like the
one upon the canvas. And not like that
alone, but also like the portrait beyond— the
portrait of Richard Howell. Mildred had
not noticed tliis yet, though the mild, dark
eyes seemed watching her every moment, just
as another pair of living eyes were watching
her from the door.

Mildred's scream of joy had penetrated to
the ears of the sleeping Judge, rousing him
from his after-diimer nap, and causing him
to listen again for the voice which sounded
like an echo fr()na the past. The cry was not
epeatfcd, but through the open door he heard

distinctly the childish voice, and shaking off
his drowsiness he started to see who the
intruders could be.

Judge Howell did not believe in the
supernatural. Indeed, he scarcely believed
in anything, but when he first caught sight
of Mildred's deep, brown eyes, and spaikhng
face, a strange feeling of awe crept over him,
for it seemed as if his only daughter had
stepped suddenly from the canvas, and going
backward, for a few years, had come up be-
fore him the same little child, whose merry
laugh and winsome ways had once made the
sunlieht of his home. The next instant, how-
ever, nis eyes fell upon Oliver, and then he
knew who it was. His first impulse was to
scream lustily at the intruder, bidding her
begone, but there was something in the ex-
pression of her face which kept him silent,
and he stood watching her curiously, as, with
eyes upturned, lips apart, and hands clasped
nervously together, she stood gazing at his
daughter, and asking her companion who the
lady was like.

Oliver could not tell, but to' the Judge's lips
the answer sprang, " She's like you." Then,
as he rememSered that others had thought
the same, his wrath began to rise ; for nothing
had ever so offended nirn as hearing people
say that Mildred Hawkins resembled nim or
his.

"Yon minx!" he suddenly exclaimed,
advancing into the room, "what are you
doing here and who are yon, hey T"

Oliver coloured painfully, and looked about
for some safe hiding-place, while Mildred,
poising her head a little on one side, unflinch-
ingly replied :

"1 am Mildred. Who be you ?"

"Did I ever hear such impudence?**
muttered the Judge, and striding up to the
child, he continued, in his loudest tone%
"Who in thunder do you think I am ?"

Veiy calmly Mildred looked him in the
face and deliberately replied :

"I think you are myjather; anyway, I've
come up to ask if you ain't."

"Good heavens I" and the Judge involun-
tarily raised his hand to smite the audacious
Mildred, but before the blow descended his
eyes met those of Richard, and though it was
a picture he looked at, there was something
in that picture which stayed the act, and his
hand came down very gently upon the soft
brown hair of the child who was so like both
son and daughter.

"Say," persisted Mildred, emboldened by
by this very perceptible change in his de-
meanour, "be you njyfather,and if you ain't,
who is ? Is he /" And she pointed toward
Richard, whose mild, dark eyes seemed to
Oliver to smile approvingly upon her.

Never before in his life had the Judge been

'! ''I ,/ I

MILT>1?ED.

• r^/

I /f ;0

,: I

80 uncertain ns to whether it were proper to
Stioltl or laugh. Tho idea of that little girl's
coining up to Bcecliwoud, anil claiming him
for her father was perfectly preposterous, and
yet in spite of himself there was about her
8omethiuj4 he could not resist, — she seemed
near to him, — so near that for one brief in-
stant the thought flitted across his brain that
he would keep her there with him, and not
let her go back to the gable-roof where ru-
mour said she was far from being happy.
Then as he remembered all that had been
said, and how his adopting her would give
rise to greater scandal, he steeled his heart
against her and replied, in answer to her
question, " You haven t any father, and
never had. Your mother was a good-for-
nothing jade from Maine, who left you here
because she knew I had money, and she
thought maybe I'd keep you and make you
my heir. But she was crandly mistaken. I
Bent you oS then and I'fl send you off again,
80 begone, you baggage, and don't let me
catch you stealing any. mora flowers, or call-
ing me names, either, such as ' old cross-
patch.* I ain't deaf : I heard you."

•' You called me names first, and you are a
heap older than I am," Mildred answered,
moving reluctantly toward the door, and
coming to a firm stand as she reached the
threshhold.

"What are yon waiting for?" asked the
Judge, and Mildred replied, "I ain't in any
hurry, and I shan't go until I see that basket
1 was brought here in. "

"The plague yon won't," returned the
Judge, now growing really angry. " We'll
see who's master ;" and taking her by the
Bboulder, he led her through the hall, dQW»
the steps, and out into the open air, followed
by Oliver, who having expected some such
^snouement, was -^^t greatly disappointed.

"' Let's go back," ho aaid, as he
saw indications of what he called
"one of Miily's tantrums." But Milly would
not stir until she had given vent to her
wrath, looking and acting exactly like the
Judge, who, from an upper window, was
watching her with mingled feelings of
lynusement and admiration.

" She's spunky, and no mistake," he
thought, " but I'll be hanged if I don't like
the spitfire, ^^^lere the plague did she get
those eyes, and that mouth so much like
Mildred and Richard ? She bears herself
proudly, too, I will confess," he continued,
as he saw her at hist cross the yard and join
Rachel, who, having found him in the parlour
when tthe came back from quieting Finn,
had stolen away unoljserved.

Twi the Judge turned from the window,
and as often went back again, watching Mil-
dred, as she passed slowly through the gar-

deu, and half wishing she would gather
Bonte ot his choicest flowers, so that he could *
call after her and see again the angry flash •
of her (lark eyes. But Mildred did not
meddle with the flowers, and when her little ..
straw bonnet disappeared from view, the |
Judge be(;an to pace the floor, wondering at
the feeling of loneliness which op})re8sod him,
and the voice M'hich whispered that he had
turned from his door a second time the child
who had a right to a place by his hearthstone
and a place in his heart, even though he
were not her father.

CHAPTER V.

LAWKBITCE THOKNTON AND HIS ADVIOB.

The fact that Mildred had dared go up to
Beechwood and claim Judge Howell as her
father, did not tend in the least to im-
prove her situation, for regarding it as proof
that she would, if she could, abandon the
gable-roof. Aunt Hepsy became more uu«
amiable than ever, keeping the child from
school, and imposing upon her tasks which '
never could have been iierforined but for
Oliver's assistance. Deep and dark wer« ■
the waters through which Mildred was pa88> .
ing now, and in the coming tuture she saw
no ray of hope, but behind that heavy cloud
the sun was shining bright and only a little
way beyond, the pastures lay all green and
fair.

But no such thoughts as these intruded '.
themselves upon her mind on the Sabbath i
afternoon when, weary and dejected, she '
stole from the house, unobserved even by i
Oliver, and wended her way to the river'
bank. It was a warm ^November day, and o
seatins herself upon the withered grass ;
beneatn the sycamore, she watched the faded j
leaves as they dropped into the stream and
floated silently away. In the quiet Sabbath :
hush there was something very soothing to ;
her irritated nerves, and she ere long fell
asleep, resting her head upon the twisted
roots, which made almost as soft a pillow as
the scanty one of hens' feathers on which she
was accustomed to repusa

She had not lain there long when a foot-
step broke the stillness, and a boy, appar<
ently about fourteen or fifteen years of age,
drew near, pausing suddenly as his eye fell
upon the sleeping child.

" Belongs to some one of tho Judge's poor
tenants, I dare say," he said to himself,
glancing at her humble dress, and he was
about pasainj' lier l)y, when someihing in her
face attracted his attention, and ke stopped
for a nearer view.

" V\ho is she like?" he said, and he ran
over in his mind a list of his city friends, but
among them all there was no face like this
oue. "Where have I seen her?" he con*

LAWRENCE THORNTON AND HIS ADVICR

I gather
he uould
gry flash
did uot
her little
iew, the
derin^ at
isod htm,
he bad
the child
irthstoue
luugh h«

.DVIOB.

go up to
[1 as her
t to iin-
; as proof
bodon the
aore im>
hild from
iks which
L but for
ark vfrere
was pass-
e she Bar/
avy cloud
ly a little
jreeu and

intruded

Sabbath

ited, she

even by

he river

day, and

d grass

he faded

earn and

Sabbath

thing to

long fell

twisted

illow aa

hich she

a f oot-
I, appar-
[s of age,

eye fell

je's poor

himself,

he was

ig in her

stopped

he ran
[nds, but
like this

hfl cou"

^.H

tinned, and determining not to leave the
spot until the mystery was solvcil, ho sat
down upon a stone near Ity. " She sletjps
Inng; she must be tired," he said at last, as
the sun drew nearer to the western horizon,
and there were still no signs of wakinsr. '♦ I
know she's mighty uncomfortable with her
neck on that sharj) i)<)int," he continued, and
drawing near he substituted himself for the
pnarled roots which had hitherto been Mil-
dred's pillow.

Something the little girl said in her sleep
of Oliver, whom she evidently fancied was
with her, and then her brown head nestled
down in the lap of the handsome boy, who
smoothed her hair gently, while he wondered
more and more whom she was like. Sud-
denly it came to him, and he started so
quickly that Mildred awoke, and with a cry
of alarm at the sight of an entire stranger,
sprang to her feet as if she would run away.
But the boy held her back, saying pleasant-
ly :

" Not so fast, my little lady. I haven't
held you till my arms ache for nothing.
Come here and tell me who you are."

His voice and manner both were winning,
disarming Mildred of all fear, and sitting
duwn, as he bade her do, she answered:

" 1 am Mildred— and that's all."

"Mildred — and that's all!" he repeated.
*' You surely have some other name! Who
ifl your fatlier ? "

"I never had any, Judge Howell says,
and my mother put me in a basket, and left
me up at Beech wood, ever so long ago. It
thundered and lightened awfully, and I wish
the thunder had killed me before I was as
tired and sorry as I am now. There's nobody
to love mo anywhere but Richard and Oliver,
and Richard, I guess, is dead, while Oliver
has crippled feet, and if he grows to
be a fman he can't earn enough for me
and him, and I'll have to stay with grand-
mother till I die. Oh, I wish it could
be now ; and I've held my breath a lot of
times to see if I couldn't stop breathing,
but I always choke and como to life 1 "

All the boy's curiosity was roused. He
had heard before of the infant left at Judge
Howell's, and he knew now that she sat
there before him — a much-abused, neglected
child, with that strange look upon her face
which puzzled him just as it had many an
older person.

"Poor little girl," he said. "Where do
you live, and who takes care of you ? Tell
me all about it;" and adroitly leading her
on, he learned the whole story of her life —
how since tie woman diod she once thouorht
was her motlior slio had scarely known a
happy day. OM Hcpey was so cross, put-
Vug upon her harder tasks than she could

well perform— beating her often, and tyran-
nizing over her in a thousand dillerent ways.

" I used to think it was bad enough when
I thought she was related," said Mildred,
"but now I know she hain't no rij^ht, it
seems a hundred times worse — and I don't
know what to do."

"I'd run away," suggested the boy ; and
Mildred replied :

"Run where? I was never three miles
from this place in my life."

" Run to Boston," returned the boy.
"That's where I live. Cousin Geraldine
wants a waiting-maid, and though she'd be
mighty overbearing, father would be good,
I guess, and so would Lilian — she's just
about your size."

" Who is Lilian ?" Mildred asked, and '^e
replied :

" I call her cousin, though she isn't at all
related. Father's sister Mary married Mi-.
Veille, and died when Geraldine was born.
Ever so many years after uncle married again
and had Lilian, but neither he nor his second
wife lived long, and as father was appointed
guardian for Geraldine and Lilian, they
have lived with us ever since. Geraldine is
proud, but Lilian is a pretty little thing.
You'll like her if you come."

"Should you be there?" Mildred asked,
much more interested in the handsome boy
than ia Lilian Veille.

" I shall be there till I go to college," re-
turned the boy ; " but Geraldine wouldn't
let you have much to say to me, she's so
stuck up, and feels so big. The boys at
school told me once that she meant I should
marry Lilian, but I sho'n't if I don't want
to."

Mildred did not answer immediately, but
sat thinking intently, with her dark eyes
fixed upon the stream running at her feet.
Something in her attitude reminded the boy
a second time of the resemblance which had
at first so impressed him, and turning her
face more fully toward him, he said :

" Do you know that you look exactly as
my mother did?"

Mildred started eagerly. Theoldburningde-
sire toknow whoshewas, or whence she came,
was awakened, and grasping the boy's hand,
she said :

" Maybe you're my brother, then. Oh, I
wish you was ! Como down to the brook,
where the sun shines ; we can see our faces
there and know if we look alike."

She had grasped his arm and w.ts trying to
draw him forward, when ho dashed oil he?
newly-formed hopes by saying :

" It is my step-mother you icspml'le; sha
that was the famous beaut}', jNliMrud Huw-
ell."

"That pretty lady in the frime ?" say

MiLnr.KD.

■ft

MiMretl, rather baiUy. '* Widow Siinms says
1 look like }ior, Aiul was bhe your mother?"

" She was f.ither's rccoikI wifi-," returned
the boy, "and 1 am Lawreuco Tlioraton, of
HostoM."

Seeing that the name " Lawrence Thorn-
ton," did not impress the little girl as lio
fancied it woniil, the boy proceeded to ^'wv
Ui V an (intliiio iiiatory of himself and family,
^vlaL:ll last, he said, was uno of the oldest,
and riulicst, and moist aristocratic in the
city.

"Have you any sisters?" Mildred asked,
and Lawrence replied :

" I had a sister once, a good deal older
than I am. I don't remember her much, for
when I was Hve years old— that's ten years
atro, — she ran off with her music teacher, Mr.
Harding, and never came back again : and
about a year later, we heard that she was
dead, and that there was a girl- baby that
died with her ''

*' Yes ; but what of the beautiful lady,
your mother?" chimed in Mildred, far more
interested iu Mildred Howell than in the
baby reported to have died with Lawrence's
sister Helen.

Lawrence Thornton did not koow that the
far-famed "starry eyes" of sweet Mildred
Howell had wept bitter tears ere she consent-
ed to do her father's bidding and wed a man
many years her senior, and whoso oidy
daughter was exactly her own age ; neitlier
did he know how from the day she wore her
bridal roi»e3, looking a very queen, she had
commenced to fade— for Autumn and May
did not go well together, even though the
former were gilded all over with gold. He
only had a faint remembrance that she was
to him a playmate rather than a mother, and
that she seemed to love to have him kiss her
and caress her fair round cheek far better
than his father. So he told this- last to Mil-
dred, and told her, too, how his father and
Judge Howell both had cried when they
stood together by her coffin.

"And Richard," said Mildred,— " was
Richard there?"

Lawrence did not know, for he was scarce-
ly four years old when his stepmother died.

" But I have seen Richard Howell," he
said ; "1 saw him just before he went away.
He came to Boston to see Cousin
Geraldine, I guess, for I've heard since that
Juilge Howell wanted him to marry her
when she got big enough. She was only
thirteen then, but that's a way the lluwells
and Thorntons have of marrying frlksa great
deal older than tliemselvts. You don't
catch me at any such thing, though. Huw
old are you, Mildred ?"

LiiwriMice Thornton hadn't tlie slii/htest
'^ijtivo in diking tiii3 (iuestiiui, neitlici .lia

he wait to have itanswercTl; for, observing
that the sun was really getting very low in
the heavens, he arose, and. telling Mildred
that dinner wonUl be waiting for him at
Hccchwood, whcio he was now spending a
few days, ho bade her good-bye, and walketl
rapidly away.

As far as she could see him Mildred fol-
lowed him with her tyos, and when, at last,
a turn in the wiiidii'g path hid him from her
view, she resumed hor scat upon the twisted
roots and cried, for the world to her was
doubly desolate now that he was g(»ne.

"lie was so bright, ho handsome," she
s.iid, "and he looked so sorry like wiiec ho
said 'poor little Milly !' Oh, I wish he
would stay with me always !" ,

Then she remembered what he had said to
her of going to Boston, and she resolved tliat
when next old Hepsy's treatment became
harsher thanshe could bear, sJio would surely
follow his advice and run away to Boston,
perhaps, and be waiting-maid to Miss Geral-
(lino Veille. She had no idea what thd
duties of waiting-maid were, but no situation
could be worse than her present one, and
then Lawrence would be there a portion of
time at least. Y''es, she would certainly run
away, she said; nor was it very long ere she
hail an opportunity of carrying her resolu-
I tion into effect, for as the weather grew
colder, Hcpsy, who was troubleil with rhen-
matisin and corns, became intolerably cross
and one day punished Mildred for a slight
offence far more severely than she had ever
done before.

" I can't stay— I won't stay — I'll go this
very night !" thought Mildred, as blow after
blow fell upon her uncoveied neck and
arms.

Then as her eye fell upon the white-faced
Oliver, who apparently suffered more than
herself, she felt a moment's indecision.
Oliver would miss her— Oliver would cry
when he found that she was gone, but Law-
renco Thornton would get him a place as
chore boy somewhere near her, and then
they would bo so happy in the great city,
where Hepsy's tongue could net reach them.
She did not think that money would be
needed to carry her to fJoston, for she had
been kept so close at home that she knew
little of the world, and she fancied that she
had only to steal away to the depot un-
observed.and the rest' would follow, as a
matter of course. The conductor would
take her when she told him of Hepsy, .is
siu^ meant to do, and once in the city any-
b'i^sy would tell her wLore Lawrenre
Tin. n. ton lived. Tliis being satisfactorily
sell led, her next step was to |)in up iu a
C(-ttoti haij'iUcicliicf, her lics^ calico dress
ana pa.'daltts, for,it the Lady Geraldiue Were

WIT AT CAME OP IT.

)l)8crving
^ low in
Mildred
r him at
sending ft
d walke«l

l.lrcd fol*

n, at last,

from her

\e twisted

her waa
one.

me," »he
e when ho

wish bo

A.
lad said to
lolvcd that
it became
•uld surely
to Boston,
liss Geral-.
(V'hat thd
iO situation
it one, and

1 portion of
rtainly ruo
oiig ere she
her resolu-
ather grow
[ with rheu-
brubly cross
[for a slight
le had ever

-I'll fio this
Mow after
ueck and

white- faced

more than

indecision.

would cry

B, but Law-

a place as
', and then

great city,
reach them.

would be
or she had
she knew
eil that she
depot uii-
[follow, as a

tor would
If Hcpay, as
]ie city any-
Lawreiue
ktisfactonly
|piu up iu a

allco drcsa

aldiue were

1 i

pvoud as liawrcnce 'I'hornton had said, she I
would \v:uit I'or waiting-maid to look as
smart as pon ibio.

Accordiii'^ly tlio faded frock and dimity
pantalets, whioli had not been worn since
the meniorablo visit tO Beechwood, were
made into a buntlle, Mildred thinking the
while how sha would put it on in the woods,
where tlicrc was no danger of being detected
by old Hepay, who was screaming for her to
oome down and till the kettle.

"It's the last time I shall do it," thoucht
Mi hi red, as she descended the stairs and be-
gan to make her usual preparation for the
suptjer, and the little girl s step was lighter
i«c the prospect of her release from bondage.

But every time she looked at Oliver, who
was suffering from a sick headache, the tears
came to her eyes, and she was nre than
oiioe tempted to give up her wild project of
running away.

" Dear Oliver," she tihispered, when at
last the supper was over, the dishes washed,
and the floor swept, and it was almost time
for her to go. ''Dear Oliver," and goinff
over to where he sat, she pressed her hand
upon his throbbing templen — "you are the
dearest kindest brother that ever was born,
and you iiui:t remember how much I love
you, if anything should happen."

Oliver did not hear the last part of her re-
ma-^k. he only knew ho liked to have her
warm band on his forehead, it made him feel
better, and, placing his own fingers over it,
he kept it there along time, while Mildred
glanced nervously at the clock, whose con-
stantly iroviug minute-hand warned her it
was time to co. Immediately after supper
Hepsy had tsiken her knitting and gone to
spend the evening with Widow Simms, and
in her absence Mildred dared do things she
would otherwise have left undone. Kneel-
ing down by Oliver and laying her head
upon his knee, she said:

" If I should die or go away forovfelr, yonll
forgive me, won't you, for striking you in the
barn that time, and laughing at your feet. I
was mad, or I shouldn't have done it, I've
cried about it so many times," and she laid
her hand caressingly upon the poor, deform-
ed feet turned backward beneath her chair.
"Oh, I never think of that," answered
Oliver ; "and if you were to die, I should
want to die, too, 'twould bo »o lonesome
without little Milly,"

Poor Milly ! She thought her heart would
burst, ati'l nothing but a most indomitable
will could have sustained her; kissing him
several tiinc3 she arose, and making some
excuse, hurried a<vay up to her room. it
took but a moment to put on her bonnet and
shawl, and stealing noiselessly down the
stairs, she passed out into the winter

darkness, pausing for a moment beneath
the uncurtained window, to gnze at
Oliver, sitting there alone, the dim
firelight shining on his patient face and fall-
ing on his hair. He did not see the brown
eyes filled with tears, nor the forehead
pressed against the pane, neither did h*3 hear
the whispered words, "Good-bve, darling
Oliver, good-bye," but he thought the room
was darker, while the shadows m the corner
seemed blacker than before, and he listened,
eagerly for the footsteps coming down, but
listened in vain, for in the distance, with no
company save the gray December clouds and
her own bewildered thoughts, a little figure
WRS hurrying away to the fw-ofi city — and
avt ay to Lawrence Thornton.

CHAPTER VI.

WHAT CAHB OW IT.

HepsyV clock, which was thought bv it«
mistrusa to resulate the sun, was really ft
great deal too slow, and Mildred had scarcely
gone half the way to the Mayfield station,
when she was startled by the shrill
scream of the engine, and knew that she waa
left behind. . .

"Ob, what shall I do?" she cried. "I
can't ato back, for maybe Hepsy's home be-
fore now, and she would kill mo sure. Mv
arm aches now where she struck me so hard,
the old good-for-nothing. I'd rather stay
here alone in the woods," and sinking against
a log Mildred began to cry.

Not for a moment, however, did she regret
what she had done. The dreary gable-roof
seemed tenfold drearier to her than the lone-
some woods, while the winter wind, sighing
through leafless tress, was music compared
with Hepsy's voice. The day had not been
very co' ' nt the night was chilly, and not a
single 8^ hone through the leaden clouds.
A storm was coming on, and Mildred felt the
snow-flakes dropping on her face.

" I don't want to be buried in the snow
and die," she thought, "for I ain't very
good ; I\n BU awful sinner, granny says,
and sure to go to perdition, but I ain't so
certain about that God wouldn't be very
hard on a little girl who has been treated as
mean as I have. He'd make some allowance
for my dreadful bringing up. I wonder if
He is here now ; Oily says He is everywhere
and if He Is and can see me in my tantrums
He can see me in the dark. I mean to pray
to Him just as good as I can, and ask him to
take care of me ;" and kneeling by the old
log, with the darkness all about her, and
the snow-flakes falling thiakly upon her up-
turned face, she began a prayer which was
a strange mixture of what she had heard at
St. Luke's, where she had once been with

so*

MILDRED.

Olivei, whnt «he hml often hciird at tho
jirftj'er meetings, wliioh she had frequently
Bttended with Aunt Hensy, and of her real
•elf AS alio thought and felt.

" She hcg/in : " Have mercy upon us, miser-
aide sinnfTs, for if I know my own heart, I
think I have made a new consecration of all
that I have and all that I am since we last
met, And henceforth I mean to— mean

to ••

Here the mere forms of words left her,
and the child Milly 8i)oko out and told her
trouble to God.

" Oh, Jesus," she said, "if you be really

here, and if you can hear what I say, as

• )lly says you can, I wish you'd conio up

close to me, right hero by tho log, so I

needn't feel afraid while 1 tell you how

tranny has whipped me so many times for

'most nothing, and never let me have a real

doll or do anything I wanted to, and I've

been so unhappy there, and wicked, too,

and mad at her, and called her ugly names

behind her back, and would to her face,

only I dassent, and I've made mouths at her

and wished I could lick her, and have eveu

in my tantrums been mean to Oily, and

twitted him about his twisted feet, and

pulled his hair and spit at liim as fast as I

nould spit and loved him all the time, and

now I've runned away and the cars have

left me when I was going in them to Boston

to see Lawrence Thornton and be Miss

Geraldine's waiting-maid, and it's dark and

cold and snowy here in the woods and I am

afraid of something, I don't know what,

and I can't go baclc to granny, who would

almost skin me alive, and she ain't my

granny either ; some Maine woman sent rae

to Judge Howell, in a thunderstorm and

basket, and I'm nobody's little girl ; so,

please, Jesns, take care of me and tell me

where to go and what to do, and I'm sorry

for all my badness, especially to Oily, for

Christ's sake, Amen."

This was a very lone prayer for Milly,
who had never before said more than " Now
I lay me," or the Lord's prayer ; but God
saw and heard tho littlo desolate child, and
answered her touching appeal.

"There, I feel better and not so lonesome,
jil ready," she said, as she rose from her
knees and groped around to find some better
])lace of shelter than the old log afforded.

Suddenly, as she came to an opening in tho
trees, she saw, in the distance, the light
shining out from the library windows of
Ueecliwood ; and tho idea crossed her brain
that she would go there, and if Jmlgo
Howell turned her off, as he did before, ohe'd
go to Tiger's kennel and sleep with hii^i.
Mildred's impulses usually a,otcd upon, a'.id
she was 800U traversing the road to Beach-

wood, feeling with eacli step that she was
drawing nearer to hor home.

"Widow Simms says I have a right here,"
she thought, as she passed HJlently through
tho gate. "And I almost bclievu so, too.
Anyw.ay, I mean to tell him I'vo come to
stay ;" and, without a moment's hesitation,
the courageous child opened tho door, and
stunpcd into the hall.

Judge Howell sat in his pleasant library,
trying to interest himself in a book, but *
vague fueling of loneliness oppressed him, and
as often as he read one page, he turned back-
ward to SCO what had gonu before.

"It's of no use," he said, at last; "I'm not
in a reading mood ; " and closing his eyes, he
leaned back in his arm-chair, and thought of
much which had como to him during the
years gone by — thought first of his gentle
wife — then of his beautiful daughter — and
then of Richard, whom ho had cursed in that
very room. Where was ho now ? Were the
waters of the Southern seas chanting wild
music over his ocean bed ? Did the burning
sun of Bengal look down upon his grave T — or
would he come back again some day, and
from his father's lips hear that tho old man
was sorry for the harsh words that he had
spoken? Then, by some sudden transition
of thought, he remembered the night of the
storm, and the infant left at his door. He
had never been sorrv for casting it off, he
said, and yet, had he kept her — were she
•with him this wintry night, ho might not be
80 dreary sitting alone.

"There they go /" said a childish voice, and
as his gold-bowed specs fell to tho floor, the
Judge started up, and lo, there upon a stool,
her bonnet and uundle on a chair, and her
hands folded demurely upon her lap, sat the
veritable object of his tiioughts, even little
Mildred.
' Through the half-closed door she had glided
so noiselessly as not to disturb his reverie,
and sitting down upon the stool at his feet,
had warmed her hands by the blazing fire,
removed her hood, smoothed back her hair,
and then watched bro.atliiessly the slow
desccut of the specs from tho nose of the
■ Judge, who, she fancied, was sleeping.
Lower, and lower, and lower they came, and
when at last they dropped, she involuntarily
uttered the exclamaticu which rouaed the
I Judjxo to a knowledge of bcr presence.

"Whrit the deuce — how did you pet in,
and what arc you here for?" asked the Judge,
fcelinj, ill spite of Miv.self, a secret satisfac-
tion in liaving her tha>'e, auti. knowing that
he was no longer alone.

Fi.'cing her clear, brown eyes Ui.oa him,
MiMrcd answered :

" I walkeil in, and I've conie to stay."
i "The olasue yuu have," returned the

ihe WM

there,"
bhroiigli
lo, tut).
3omo to
lita^ion,
ur, and

library,
:, but a
lim, and
ed back-

Tmnot
eyes, )ie
ought of
ring the
B gentle
ter — and
id in that
W^ere the
ing wild
burning
ave ? — or
lay, and
old man
b he had
iransition
lit of the
cor. He
t off, he
were she
it not be

oice, and

oor, the

a stool,

and her

sat the

^eu little

ad glided
reverie,
lis feet,

zing fire,
er hair,
le slow
of the

sleeping.

inie, and
untarily

uacd the
e.

I get in,

le Judge,
satisfac-

/ing that

ijDu him,

stay."
rued th»

w);at came of it.

Judge, vnntly aniuned at the quiet decision
with wliich she spoku. ''Come to stay,
hey ? But euppoae I won't let you, what
then !"

" You will," said Mildred ; " and if you
turn mu out, I dliall come right in again.
I've lived with Oliver's grandmother as lung
as I am gdin;^ to. I dou't belong tlicre, nnd
to-night I started to run away, bat the
cars left nio, and it was cold and daik in tlio
woods, and I was kind of 'fraid, aud asked
God to take cnro of me aud tell me where to
go, and I corned riglit here."

There was n big lump in the Judge's throat
as ho listened to the child, bui; he swallowed
it down, and pointing to the bundle contain-
ing Mildred's Sunday clothes, said, "Brought
your things, too, I see. You'll be wantmg
a closet and a trunk to put them iu, I
reckon."

The quick-witted child detected at onco
the irony in his tone, aud with a quivering
lip she answered :

"They are the best I've got. She never
bought me anything since mother died. She's
just as cross as she can be, too, and whips
me so hard for nothing — look," and rolling
up her sleeve she showed him more than one
red mark upon her arm.

Sour and crusty as the Judge appeared,
there were soft spots scattered here and
there over his heart, and though the largest
was scarcely larger than a pin's head, Mil-
dred had chanced to touch it, for cruelty to
any one was sometliing he abhorred.

*' Poor little thing," he said, taking the fat,
chubby arm iu one hand, and passing the
other caressingly over the marks -"poor
little thing, we'll have that old she-dragon
'tended to," and something like a tear, both
in form and feeling, dropped upon the
dimpled elbow. " Wliat makes you star© at
me so?" he continued, as ho saw how
the wondering brown eyes were fixed upeu
him.

"I was thinking," answered Mildred,
"how you ain't such a cross old feller as
folks say you be, and you'll let me stay here,
won't you? I'd rather live with you than
Lawrence Tliornton "

*• Lawrence Thornton 1" repeatru the
Judge. "What do you know of him ? Oh,
yes, I remenrber now that bespoke of finding
vou asleei) ; but were you running away to
iiimT"

In a few words Mildred told him what her
intentions had been, and then she said to him
again :

" But I shall stay here now and be your
little girl."

" I ain't so sure of that," answered the
Judge, adding, as he saw her counten-

ance fall : " What good oould you do

»"

Mildred's first thought was, " I can
wash the dishes and scrub the floor ;" then ••
she remembered that servants did thes*
things at Beeechwood, she stood a moment
uncertain how to answer. At lost, as a new
idea crossed her mind, she said: "When
you're old and lonesome, there'll be nobody
to love you if I go away, and you'll le sorry
if vou turn me off."

\Vhy was it the Judge started so quickly
and placed his hand betore his eyes, as if to
assure himself that it was little Mildred
standing there and not his only boy —
not liichard, who long ago had said to
him :

" In the years to come, when you are old
and lonesome, you'll be sorry for what you've
said to-night."

Those wore Richard's words, while Mil-
dred's were :

" You'll be sorry if you turn me off."
It would seem that the son, over whose
fate a dark mystery hun^, was there in
spirit, pleading for the helpless child, while
with him was another Mildred, and louking
through the eyes of browu so much like her
own, she said, " Take her, father, you will
need her some timo I"

And so, not merely because Mildred Haw-
kins asked him to do it, but because of the
unseen influence which urged him on, the
Judgo drew the little girl closer to his side,
and parting back her rich, brown hair, said
to lier pleasantly, "You may stay to-
night, and to-morrow night, and if I don't
find you troublesome, perhaps you may stay
for good."

Mildred had not looked for so easy a con-
quest, and this unexpscted kindness wruns
from her eyes great tears, which rolled
silently dov/u her cheeks.

"What are you crying for?" asked the
Judge. "You are not obliged to stay.
You can go back to Hepsy any minute— now,
if you want. Shall I call Rachel to hold the
lantern ?"

He made a motion toward the bell-rope,
while Mildred, in an agony of terror, seized
his arm, telling him "she was only crying
for joy ; that she'd die before she'd go back ! '
and adding fiercely, as she saw he liad
really rung the bell : "If you send me away
I'll set your house on fire !"

The Judge smiled quietly at this threat,
and when Rachel appeared in answer to
his ring, he said. " Open the register in the
chamber above, and see that the bed is all
right, then bring us some apples and nuts—
and— wait till I get done, can't you— bring
us thnt box of prunes. Do you love priinea,
child?"

MILDRED.

, I

•' Yoi, air, t'i"U{fli T rlou't know what they
be," 8i>l>ltu(l Mililiud, through th« hiiixla «Uo
Uuil olu<>i)u I over hoi face wlieu the thought
■liu lU'iHt gu baok.

Sliu kiiesv ihe wai not going now, »ml hor
e^va H'liiiiu like diamuims M thuy Hashed
U|>()ii thu Judge o h)ok uf gratitude. It
wasii'i luiioBoine now in that handiome
lil)iut-y where Mildred i»t, eating prune
•f . 11- prune, and ai)plo after apple, while
the Ju'l^'ti sat watchiiia her with au immense
amount of satiafaotion, and, thinking to him-
self huw, on the morrow, if ho did nut change
his mui'l, he would inquire the price of
feiniiiidu dry-goods, a thing he hail not done
in yeaiH. In Lis abstraction he even forgot
tliiit tilt; ch)ok was ntriking nine, and, hallan
hour later, found him still watching Mildred,
and nutrviiUiug at her enormous appetite for
nuts and prunes. But ho rememoered, at
Udt, tliut it was his bed time, and, again
ringing for Rachel, he bade her take the lit-
tle girl upstairs.

It WM a pleasant, airy chamber where
Mildred was put to sleep, and it took her a
lon^ time to examine the furniture and the
various articles for the toilet, the names of
which nhti did not eveu know. Then she
thought of Oliver, wondering what he would
say if he knew where she was; and, going to
the window, against which n driving storm
was beating, she thought how much nicer it
WM to be in that handsome apartment than
bask in hor little bed beneath the gable roof,
or even running away to Boston after Law-
rence Thornton.

The next morning when the awoke, the
snow lay high -piled upon the earth, and the
wind wa» blowing in fearful gusts. But in
the warm summer atmosphere pervading the
whole houne, Mililred thought nothing of the
storm without. She only knew that she was
very happy, and when the Jud^e came down
to breakfast, he found her singing of her
happiness to the gray housecat, which i^e
had coaxed into her lap.

"Shall she eat with you or wait?" asked
Rachel, a little uncertain whether to arrange
the table for two or one.

•' With mc, of course, you simpleton," re-
turned the Judge; "and bring on some
sirup for the cakes — or honey; which do you
like best, child ? "

Mildred didn't know, but guessed that she
liked both, and bolh were accordingly placed
upon the table —the Judge forgetting to eat
in his delight to see how fast the nicely
browned buckwheats disappeared.

" She'll breed a famine if she stays here
long," Rachel muttered, while Finn looked
ruefully at the fast decreasing batter.

But Mildred's appetite was satisfied at last,
and she was about leaving the table, when

Ilepsy's sharp, shrill voice was heard in the
hull, proolainiing to Ra<diel the astunishing
news that Mildred Hawkins had run away
and been frozen to death in a snow bank —
that Clubs, like a fool, had lost his sonsoi
and gone raving distracted, calling loudly for
Miily and refusing to be comforted unless
she came back.

Through tlin open door Mildred heard this
last, and darting into the hall sho oskod the
startled Uopay to tell her if what she had
said were true. Petrified with astonish-
ment, Uopsy was silent for an instant, and
then in no mild terms began to upbraid the
child, because she was not frozen to death as
she had declaretl her to bo.

"Nevermind," said Mildred, "but tell
me of Oliver. la he sick, aud does he ask
for me T"

The appearance of the Judge brought
Uepsy to nerself, and she began to tell the
storv. It seemed that she had staid with
Widow Simms until after ten, and when
she reached home she found Clubs distracted
on account of Mildred's absence. Ue had
looked all through the house, and was about
going up to Beechwood, when his grand-
mother returned and stopped him, saying
th.it Mildred had probably gone to stay with
Lottie Brown, as she had the previous dav
asked periniHsion so to do and been refusecL
So Oliver had rested till morning, when he
insisted on his grandmother's wading through
the drifts to see if Milly really were at Mr.
Brown's.

"When I found she wasn't," said Hepsy,
" I Ijugaa to feel a little riled myself, lor I
kiiowed that she had the ugliest temper that
over was born, and, says I, she's run away
and been froze to death, and then such a
rumpus as Oliver made. I thought he'd
go "

Her sentence was cut short b) a cry of
joy from Mildred, who, from the window,
caught sight of the crippled boy moving
slowly through the drifts, which greatly
impeded his progress. Hastening to the
door she drew him in out of the storm,
brushed the snow from his thin hair, and
folding her arms about him, sobbed out,
" Oliver, I ain't dead, but I've run away.
I can't live with her any more, though if you
feel 80 bad about it, maybe I'll go back,
Shalll?"

Before Oliver could reply, Hepsy chimed
in, "Go back, to be sure you will, my fine
madame. I'll teach you what is what;" an!
seizing Mildred's hood, which lay upon tiio
hat-stand, she began to tie it upon the
screaming child, who struggled violently to
get away, and succeeding at last rau for
protection behind the Judge.

"Keep her, Judge Howell, please keep

WHAT CAME OF IT.

il in the
uniahiiiij
in away
bank—
» eonsoA
milly («>r
id uuleis

sard thin
lUoil tho

fthe had
Mtoniah-
ant, and
traid the

doath at

' but tall
SB he ask

brought
u tell tlie
taid with
nd when
iistracted

He had
vas about
is grand*
1, sayiuff
stay with
vious dav
[) refuseo.
, when he
g through
ire at Mr.

d Hepsy,
self, for I
uper that
run away
en suoh a
]ght he'd

I a cry of
) window,
y moving
1 greatly
ig to the
le storm,
hair, and
bbed out,
uD away,
igh if you
go back.

jy chimed
1, my fine
rhat;" an 1
' upon the
upon tliH
lolently to
rau for

ease keep

her," wlii-'perod Oliver, wliilo Mildred's
ovcs flashixl iiiit tlioir ^rntitifllu to iiitii for
thus iiktorfi'iiiig in hor belinlf. I

"Woman !" and tlio Judge's voifn was
like a dap of thnndur, wliito liis heavy biKit
caino down with a vcngoAnco as lie grasped j
tlio bony arm of Hi'i)'<y, who was making a ]
dive past om after MiMr d. "Woman,
got out of my hounc I Quick too, ami if 1
catch you here again after anybu'ly's cliiM,
I'll pull every hair out of your head. I)o
you hear, you slio-ilragon ? ncgone, I say;
start. Move faster than that !" and he ac-
celerated her movements with a shove,
which sent her quite to the door, where she
stood for an inntaiit, threatening to t;iku tliu
law of him, and sliaking her hat at Mddred,
who, holding fast to the coat-skirts uf the
Judge, knew she had nothing to fear.

After a mom nt Hepsy began to cry, and
assumini; a deeply injured tune, she budo
Oliver "Come,"

Not till then had Mildred fully realized
that if hIio ijiayed at Dceohwood slic must bo
soparatcd from her beloved playmate, and
clutching him as ho arose to follow his
grandmother, sho whispered, "if you waut
me, Oliver, 1 11 go."

Ho did want her, oh, so much, for he knew
how lonely the eablc-roof would be without
her, but it was far better that she should not
return, and so, with a tremendous ellbrt the
uuseltish boy stilled the throbbings of his
heart, and whiapcred back ; " I'd rather you
stay here, Milly, and maybe htll let me
come some time to see you."

"Everyday, every day," answered the
Judge, who could not help admiring the
young boy for preferrini» Mildred's happiness
' to his own. " There, I'm glad that's over,"
he said, whoa, as thn door closed upon
Hepsy and Oliver, he led Mildred back to
the breakfast room, asking her if she didn't
want some moru buckwheats.

But Milly's heart was too full to eat, even
had she been hungry. Turn which way she
would, she saw only the form of a cripple
boy moving slowly througli the drifts, back
to Ihe dark old kitchen, which she knew
would that dismal day be all the darker for
her absence. It was all in vain that the
Judge sought to amuse her by showing her
all his choice treasures and telling her she
was now his little girl and could call him
father if she liked. Tho sad, despondent
look did not leave her face for tho entire
day, and just as it was growing dark, she
laid her brown head upon the Judge's knee,
as he sat in his arm-chair, and said mourn-
fully, "I guess I shall go back."

" I guess you won't," returned the .Tudge,
running his lingers through her soft hair.

and thinking how much it was like lii<t own
Mdd red's.

'• Ihit ! ought to," answered tho eliild.
"Oliver can't d<» without me. You tlon't
know liow much he likes me, nor liow iiiiiili
I like him. He's missirg me so now, 1
know he is, nnd I'm afraid he's crying, too.
Mnvn't I go?"

MildreiPs voice was choked with tears,
and Jn<)gc Howell felt them dropping upon
his ham), as he iiasncd it caressingly over her
face. Six montna before lie had professed
to hate the little girl sitting there at his
feet, and crying to go back to Oliver, )>ut
she had grown strangely into his love within
tho last twenty- four hours, and to himself
he said ;

*' 1 will not give her up."

So after sitting a time in silence, be
rc]ilied :

" 1 can do you more good than this
Oliver with his crooked feet."

"Yes, yes," interrupted Mildred, "but
it's because his feet are crooked that I can't
leave him all alone, and then he loved me
first, when ^ou hated me and swore such
awful words if 1 just looked at a flower."

There was no denying this— but the
Judge was not convinced, and ho continued
by tcllins her how many new dresses
he would buy her— how in the spring he'd
get her a pony and a silver-mounted side*
saddle '

'• And let me go to the circus?" she said,
that having hitherto been the highest object
of her ambition.

" Yes, let you go to the circus," he replied;
"And to Boston and everywhere."

The bait was a tempting one, and Mildred
wavered for a moment— then just as the
Judge thought she was satisHed. she said :

"But that won't do Oliver any good."

"Hang Oliver!" exclaimed tho Judge ;
"I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll have a lady
governess to come into the house and teach
ycu both. So you will see him every day.
I'll get him some new clothes "

" And send hiua to college when he's big
enough?" put in Mildred. "He told me
once he wished he could g6."

"Great Peter, what next will yon want?
But I'll think about the college ; and if ho
learns right smart, and you behave yourself,
1 reckon maybe I'll send him."

The Judee had no idea that Oliver would
learn "right smart," for he did not know him,
ami he merely made the promise by w.ay of
quieting Mildred, who, with this prospect in
view, became quite contented in her new
quarters, though she did so wish Oliver could
know it that night, and looking up in the
Judge's face, she said :

"It's such a little bit of a ways dowu

MILDRED.

l.i

115 ^

tli'jre, — coiiMn't you go and toll him, or let
me? It Fcems forever till tomorrow."'

Had the Juili,'e been told the pruvioiis day
th it Mildred Hawkins could have persuaded
liiiri to brave that fierce nortli-easter, he
would have Sc'ofTed at the idea as a most pre-
posterous one, but now, looking into tliose
shilling eyes of blown, lifted so pleadingly to
lii-i, he folc all Ilia sternness giving way, .nd
I'cforo he knew what he wa'J doing, or why
hti was doing ic, he found himself ploughing
tlinmi^h the snow-drifts which lay bei.ween
])eo liuood and the gable- rin if, where he
found Oliver sitting before the (ire with a
s;ul, dejected look upon his face as if all the
liappiiicss of his life had suddenly be>.'ii taken
fioni hiiu. But he brightened at once when
he saw the Judge and heard his errand. It
wuuld be so ni';e to be with Milly every day
and know that she was beyond the reach of
his graiulinother'a cruelty, and bursting into
tears he stiuumered out his th;inUs to the
Judge, who without a sign of recognition for
old ilepsy, who was dipping candles with a
most sour expression on her puckered lips,
started back through the deep snow-drifts,
foeliiig more than repaid, when he saw the
little, eager face pressed against the pane,
and tli(i) heard a sweet, younT; voice calliuj»
him ' ' best man in the world."

Aii'i Mildred did think him the embodi-
ment of every virtue, while her presence in
his house worked a marvellous change in
him. He had something now to live for,
and Ilia step was always more elastic as he
drew near liis home, where a nienv-hearted,
frdlicsume child was sure to welcome his
voiiing.

•' The little mistress of Beechwood,'' the
penpL- began to call her, and so indeed she
w:is, ruling there with a high hand, and mak-
ing both master and servant bend to her will,
particularly if in that will Oliver were con-
cerned. He was her first thought, and she
tormented the Judge until he kept his
promise of having -v governess, to whom
Oliver recited e:tch day as well as her-
self.

Once during the spring Lawrence Thornton
came aguin to Beecliwood, renewing his ac-
tjuaintance with Mildred, who, comparing
liuii witn other i^oys of lier acquaintance, re-
garded him as something more than mortal,
and after he was gone, she was never weary
of his iiraises. Once in i^peaking ol" him to
her teacher. Miss Harcourt, she said, "He's
the handsomest boy I ever saw, and he
knows so mucli, too. I'd give the world if
Oliver was like hiin," and Mildrel's sigh as
she thought of poor lame Oliver was echoed
liy the white-faced boy without the door,
who had come up just in time to hear her
remarks, lie, too, had greatly admired

Lawrence TUornton, and it lud, perhaps,
been some satisfaction to believe that Mil*
dred had not observed the diflei eiice between
them, but he knew, now, that she had, and
with a bitter pang, as he thought of his de>
formity, he took his accustomed seat ia the
school-room.

"I can never be like Lawrence Thornton,*'
he said to himself. "I shall always be lame,
and small, and sickly, andby and by, maybe,
Milly will cease to love me."

Dark, indeed, would be hia life, wlien the
sun of Mildred's love for him was set, and
his tears fell fast, erasing the figures he was
making on his slate.

"^Vhat is it. Oily ?" and Mildred nestled
close by his side, taking his thin hand in her
own chubby ones and looking iut^ his
face.

Without the least reserve he told what it
was, and Mildred's tears mingled with, his as
he said that Ids twisted feet were ac(^ntinual
canker worm— a blight on all his hopes of the
future when he should have attaired the
years of a man. The cloud was very heavy
from which Mildred could not extra t some
comrort, and aftnr a moment she looked up
cheerily, and said :

" I tell you, Oliver, you can't be as hand-
some as Lawrence, nor as tall, nor have such
nice straight feet, but you can be as good a
scholar, and when folks speak of tliat Mr.
Hawkins, who knows so much, I shall be so
proud, for I shall know it is Oliver they
mean, "

All unconsciously Mildred was sowing in
Oliver's mind ■ (irst seeds of ambition,
though not of a worldly kind. He did not
care for the world. He cared only for the
opinion of the little brown-eyed maiden at
his side. It is true he would have endured
any amount of torture if, in the end, he
might look like Lawrence Thornton ; hot
as thi.1 could not be, he determined to re-
semble him in something— to read the same
books — to learn the same things— to be able
to talk about tiit; same place.., and if, in the
end, she said he was equal to Lawrence
Thornton, ho would be satisfied. So he
toiled both early and late, far ootstrippinjj
Mildred and winning golden laurels, in the
opinion of Miss Harcourt and the Judge, the
latter of whom became, in spite of himself,
deeply interested in the pate student, who
before three years were gone, was fuily equal
to his teaciier.

Then it was that Mildred came again to
his aid, saying to the Judjia o se day,
"Oliver has learacd all Miss Harcourt caa
teach him, und had;.'t you better be looking
out for some good acliool, where ho cab be
fitted for college?"

"Cool!" returned the Judge, tossing hit

LILIAN AND MILDKED.

\e same

he able

ill the

awrence

So he

tri^jpin^

in the

Ige, the

muself,

at, who

y equal

cigar into tlio grass and siniHng ilowii iipou
her. "Cool, I declare. So jou think Id
better fit him for collepe, hoy?"

"Of course, I do," answered Mildred;
"you said you would that stormy day long
ago, when Icricdtogo l>ackandyou wouldn't
let me."

" So I did, Ro T did," returned the Judge,
adding that he'd " think about it."

The result of this thinking Mildred readily
foresaw, and she was not at all surprisjd
Avhen, a few days afterwards, the Judge said
to her, " I haye made arrangements for
Clubs to go to Andover this fall, and if ho
behaves himself I shall send him to college, I
guess; and — conio back here, you spitMrc,"
he cried, as he saw her bounding away with
the good news to Oliver. But Mild''ed
could not stay for more then. She must see
Oliver, who could scarcely find words with
which to express his gratitude to the man
who, for Mildred's sake, was doing so much
for him.

Rapidly the autumn days stole on, until at
last one September morning Mildred's heart
was sore with grief, and her eyes were red
with weeping, for Oliver was gone and she
was all alone.

"If you mourn so for Clubs, what do you
think I shall do when you, too, go off to
school ? " said the Judge.

"Oh, I shan't know enough to go this ever
BO long," was Mildred's answer, while the
Judge, thinking how lonely the house would
be without her, hoped it would be so; but in
spite of his hopes, there came a day, jnst
fourteen years after Mildred was left on the
steps at Beechwood, when the Judge said to
Oliver, who had come home, and was asking
for his playmate:

"She's gone to Charlestown Seminary,
along with that Lilian Veille, Lawrence
Thornton mikes such a fuss about, and the
Lord only knows how I'm going to live with-
out her for the next miserable three years. "

CHAPTER VIL

tILIAN AND MILDRED.

The miserable three years are gone, or
nearly so, and all around the Beechwood
mansion the July sun shines brightly, while
the summer sliadows chase each other in
frolicsome glee'ovcr the velvety svvani, and
in the maple trees the birds sing merrily, as
if they know that the hand which has fed
them so often with crunil)3 will feed them
atjain on tlic morrow. In the ganlen, tlie
flowers which the child Milly loved so well
are blossoming in rich profusion, but tlieir
gay bcils present many a broken stalk to-day,
lor the Judge has leathered bouquet after
bouquet with which to adorn the parlours,

the lH)rarv, the chamT)crs, and even the airy
halls, for Mildred is very fond of (lowers, and
Av lien the sun hangs just above the woo«la
and the engine-whistle is heard among the
Ma.\ tiold lulls lying to the westward, Mil-
dred is coming home, and stored away in
some one of her four trunks is a bit of paper
saying that its owner has been graduated
with due form, and is a tiuished-up young
lady.

Duiing the last year the Judge had not
seen her, for business had called him to
Virginia, and, for a part of the time, Beech-
wood had been closed and Mildred had spent
her long vacation with Lilian, who was now
to accompany her home. With this arrange-
ment the Judge hardly knew whether to be
plea; d or not. Ho did not fancy Lilian.
He would a little rather have Mildred all to
himself a while ; but when she wrote to him,
saying ; -' May Lilian come home with me ?
It would please me much to have her" — he
answered " Yes," at once ; for now, as of old,
he yielded his wishes to those of Mildred,
and he waited impatiently for the appointetl
day, which, when it came, he fancied would
never end.

Five o'clock, said the fanciful time-piece
upon the marble mantel, and, when the silver
bell rang out the next half hour, the carriage
came slowly to the gate, and with a thrill of
joy the Judge saw the girlish head protrud-
ing from the window, and the fat, white
hand wafting kisses towards him. He had
no desire now to kick her into the street —
no wish to send her from Beechwood — no
inclination to swear at "Widow Simms for
saying she was like himself. He was
far too happy to have her home again, and,
kissing her cheeks as she bounded to
his side, he called her "Little Spitfire,"
just as he used to do, and then led her into
the parlour, where hung the pic'ure of another
Mildred, who now might well be likened to
herself, save that the dress was old-fashioned
and the hair a darker brown.

"Oh, isn't it pleasant here ?" she cried,
dancing about the room. "Such heaps oif
flowers, and, as I live, a new piano ! It's
mine, too !" and she fairly screamed with
joy as she saw her own name, "MiLDRED
Howell," engraved upon it.

"It was sent home yesterday," returned
the Judge, enjoying her delight and asking
for some music.

"Not just yet," returned Mildred, "for,
sec, Lilian and I are an inch deep with dust;"
ami g:itliering up their shawls and hats, the
two girls sought their chamber, from which
they emerged as fresh and blooming as the
roses which one had twined among her (low-
ing curls, and the other had placed iu ^aio
heavy braids of her rich brown hi»ir,

MILDRED.

'* Why is not Oliver here T" MiUlretK asked,
an they were about to leave the supper-table,
•'or does he think, because he is raised to
the dignity of a Junior, that young ladies
Are of no importance ?"

"I invited him to tea," said the Judge,
"but he is suffering from one of his racking
headaches. I think he studies too hard, for
his face is as white as paper, and the veins
on his forehead are large as my linger; so I
told him you should go down there when I
■was sick of you."

"Which I shall make believe is now,"
said Mildred, laughingly, and taking from
the hall-stand her big straw bat, she excused
herself to Lilian, and harrying down the
Cold Spring path, soon stood before the
gable-roof door, where old Hepsy sat knitting
and talking to herself, a habit which had
come upon her with increasing years.

kt the sight of Mildred she arose, and
dropping a low curtsey, began in her fretful,
querulous wr,y : "I wonder now if you can
stoop to come down here; but I s'pose it's
Oliver that's brought you. It beats all how
folks that gets a little riz will forget them
that had all the trouble of bringin' 'em up.
Oliver is up charmber with the headache, and
I don't b'lieve he wants to be disturbed."

" Yes, he does," said Mildred, and lifting
the old-fashioned wooden latch, she was soon
climbing the crazy stairs which creaked to
her bounding treacl.

Of his own accord, and because he knew
it would please Mildred, the Judge had
caused what was once her chamber at the
gable roof to be finished off and fitted into
a cozy library for Oliver, who when at home
spent many a happy hour there, bending
sometimes over his books, and thinking again
ef the years gone by, and of the little girl
who had often cried herself to sleep, within
those very walls. It was well with her
now, he knew, and he blessed God that it
was so, even though his poor feet might
never tread the flowery path in which it
w*s given her to walk. He had not
seen her for nearly two years, but she
had written to him regularly, and from her
letters he knew she was the same warm-
hearted, impulsivo Milly who had once made
all the sunshine of his life. She had grown
up very beautiful, too, for among his class-
mates were several whose homes were in
Charlestown, and who, as a matter of course,
felt a deep interest in the Seminary girls,
particularly in Miss Howell, who was often
quoted in his presence, his companions never
(Ireaming that she was aughi to the " club-
footed Lexicon," as they called the studious
Oliver.

Lawrence Tliornton, too, when he camo to
the college couimeucement, had said to hiui

playfully :

" Clul)8, your sister Milly, as you call her,
is very beautiful, with eyes like stars and
hair the colour of the chestnuts I used to
gather in the Mayfield woods. If I were you,
I should bo proud to call her sister."

And Oliver was proud ; but when the
handsome, manly figure of Lawrence Thorn-
ton had vanished through the door, ho fan-
cied he breathed more freely, though why he
should do so he could not tell, for he liked
to hear Mildred praised. t

'• I shall see her for myself during his va-
cation," he thought ; and after his return to
Beech wood he was nearly as in. patient as the
Judge for her arrival. "She will be home
to-day," he thought on the morning when he
knew she was expected, and the sunlight
dancing on the wall seemed all the blighter
to him.

He had hoped to meet her at Beech wood,
but his enemy, the headache, came on in
time to prevent his doing so, and with a sigh
of disappointment he went to his little room,
and leaning back in his easy-chair, counttd
the lagging moments until he heard the well-
known step upon the stairs, and knew that
she had come. In a moment she stood be-
side him, and was looking into his white,
worn face, just as he v as gazing at her in all
her glowing, healthy beauty. He had kissed
her heretofore when they met — kissed her
when they parted ; but he dared .not do it
now, for she seemed greatly changed. He
had lost his little romping, spirited Milly,
and he knew there was a dividing line be-
tween himself and the grown young lady
standing before him. But no such thoughts
intruded themselves upon Mildred ; Oliver,
to her, was the same good-natured boy who
had waded barefoot with her in the brook,
picked ' 'huckleberries" on the hills and ch est-
nuts in the wood. She never once thought
of him as a man, and just as she was wont
to do of old, just so she did now — she wound
her arms around his neck, and kissing his
forehead, where the blue veins Were swell-
ing, she told him how glad she was to be
there with him again — told him how sorry
she was to find him so feeble and thin, and
lastly, how proud she was when she heard
from Lawrence Thornton that he was first
in his class, and bade fair '■o make the
great man she long ago predicted he
would make. Then she paused for his reply,
half expecting that he would compliment her
in return, for Mildred was well used to
flattery, and rather claimed it as her due.

Oliver read as much in her speaking eyes,
and when laying her hat upon tlie floor, she
sat clown upon a stool at his ftct, he laid his
hand fondly on her hair, and said :

" You are very, veiy beautiful, Milly !"

LILIAN AND MILDRED.

u call her,

; stars and

I used to

were you,

when tho
uce Thorn-
)r, he fan-
igh \rhy he
)r he liked

t
ng his va-
Is return to
jent aR the
11 be home
ig when he
ne sunlight
lie brighter

Becchwood,
came on in
with a sigh
little room,
lir, counted
rd the well-
knew that
le stood be-
his white,
at her in all
8 had kissed
—kissed her
d .not do it
anged. He
titcd Milly,
ing line be-
young lady
ch thoughts
red ; Oliver,
ed boy who
the brook,
Isandchest-
nce thought
le was wont
—she wound
kissing his
were swell-
! was to be
how sorry
id thin, and
n she heard
he was tirst
make the
redicted he
'or his reply,
ipliment her
ell used to
s her due.
caking eyes,
he floor, she
t, lie laid his
1:
ri, Milly I"

-I

" Oh, Oliver !" and the soft, brown eyes
looked up at him wistfully — "you never yet
told me ft lie ; and now, as true as you live,
do you think I am handsome — as handsome,
say, as Lillian Veille ?"

"You must remember I have never seen
Miss Veille," said Oliver, "and I cannot
judge you. Mr. Thornton showed me her
photograph, when lie was in Amherst ; but
it was a poor one, and gave no definite idea
of her looks. "

"Did Lawrence have her picture ?" Mildred
asked quickly, and, in the tone of her voice
Oliver detected what Mildred thought was
hidden away down the deepest corners of
her heart.

But for this he did not spare her, and he
said : " I fancied they might be engaged."

" Engaged, Oliver I" and the little hand
resting on his knee trembled visibly. " No,
they are not engaged yet ; but they will be
some time, I suppose, and they'll make a
splendid couple. You must come up to-
morrow and call on Lilian. She is the
B^ir^etest, dearest girl you ever saw !"

Oliver thou^ht of one exception, but he
merely answered : " Tell me of her Milly,
so I can be somewhat prepared. What is
she like?"

" She is a little mite of a thing," returned
Mildred, " with the clearest violet-blue eyes,
the tiniest mouth and nose, the longest,
silkest, golden curls, a complexion pure as
wax, and the prettiest baby ways — why,
she's afraid of everything ; and in our walks
I always constitute myself her body-guard,
to keep the cows and dogs from looking at
her. "

"Does she know anything?" asked
Oliver, who, taking Mildred for his criterion,
could scarcely conceive of a sensible girl
being afraid of dogs and cows.

"Know anything i" and Mildredlooked per-
fectly astonished. " Yea, she knows as much
as any woman ever ought to know, because the
men — that is, real, nice men such as a girl
would wish to marry — always prefer a wife
with a sweet temper and ordinary intellect,
to a spirited and more intellectual one ;
don't you think they do ?"

Oliver did not consider himself a "real nice
man — such as a girl would wish to marry,"
and 80 he could not answer for that portion
of mankind. He only knew that for him
there was but oue temper, one mind, one
style of beauty, and those were all embodied
in Mildred Howell, who, without waiting
for his answer, continued :

" It is strange how Lilian and I came
to love each other so much, when we are so
unlike. Why, Oliver, they called me the
spunkiest girl in the Seminary, and Lilian
the most amiable ; that's when I first went

there ; but we did each other pond, f> r she
will occasionally show sonic spirit, avIhIc I
try to govern my temper, ami have not been
angry m ever so long. You sec, Lilian and I
roomed together. I used to help htr get her
lessons ; for somehow she coukhrt learn, and,
if she sat next to me at recitation, I would
tell her what to answer, until the teacher
found it out, and made me stop. When
Lilian first came to Charlestown, Lawrence
was with her ; she was fifteen then, and all
the girls said they were engaged, they acted
so. I don't know how, but you can imagine,
can't you ?"

Oliver thought he could, and Mildred con-
tinued: "I was present when he bade her
good-bye, and heard him say, ' You'll write
to me, Fairy?' that's what he calls her.
But Lilian would not promise, and he looked
very sorry. After we had become somewhiit
acquainted, she said to me one day, ' Milly,
everybody says you write splendid composi-
tions, and now, won't you make believe you
are me, and scribble ofTa few lines in answer
to this ?' and she showed me a letter just re-
ceived from Lawrence Thornton. "

"I asked why she did not answer it herself,
and she said, 'Oh, I can't ; it would sicken
him of me at cnce, for I don't know enough
to write decently ; I don't ahvaya spell
straight, or get my grammar correct. I never
know when to use to or too, or just where the
capitals belong ; ' so after a little I was per-
suaded, and wrote a letter, which she copietl
and sent to Lawrence, who expressed himself
so much delighted with what \w called 'her
playful, pleasant style,' that I had to M-iite
again and again, until now I do it as a matter
of course, though it does hurt nic sometimes
to hear him praise her, and say ho never
knew she had such a talent for writ-
ing."

"But she will surely undeceive him ?"
Oliver said, beginning to grow interested in
Lilian Veille.

" Oh, she can't now," rejoined Mil-
dred, for she loves him too wt^ll, and she
says he would not respect her if he knew
it."

"And how w^ill it all end ?" asked Oliver,
to which Mildred repli''d :

" End in their being married, of course.
Ho always tells her how much he
likes her — how handsome she is, and all
that."

There was the least possible sigh accom-
panying these words, and Oliver, who iuinrd
it, smoothed again the shining braids, as he
said, "Milly, Lawrence Thorutop told inc
you were very beautiful, too, with starry
eyes and hair the colour of rich brown
chestnuts."

"Did he, sure ? what else dii he say ?''aiid

f!'

' ^

ns<5unHng a kticclinp; position directly in front
of Oliver, Mildred buttoned and unbuttoned
his linen cojit, while he told her everything
lie Gf)uld remember of Lawrence Thornton's
remarks concerning herself.

"lie likes me because Lilian does, I snp-
pnse," 3he said, when he had finished. "Did
1 tell v"u that his father and Geraldine —
that's Lilian's half-sister— have always in-
tended that he should marry Lilian? She
tnid me so herself, and if she hadn't, I'should
have known it from Geraldine, foi you know
I have been homo with Lilian ever so many
times, besides spending the long vacation
there. I couldn't bear her— this Geraldine ;
slie talked so insultingly to me, asking if I
hadn't the least idea who I was, and saying
once, right before Lawrence Thornton, that
she presumed my mother was some poor,
ignorant country girl, who had been unfor-
tunate, and so disposed of me that way I I
cuuld have pulled every black hair out of her
head !" and Mildred, who, in her excitement
loosened a button in Oliver's coat, looked
much like the Mildred of old — the child
who had threatened to set fire to the Judge's
house if he sent her back to Kcpsy.

" Mildred," said Oliver, smiling in cpite of
himself, and thinking how beautiful she
looked even in her anger, "shall I tell you
who / think you are?"

"Yes, yes," and the wrathful expression
of the soft, dark eyes, disappeared at once.
"Who am I, Oliver?"

"I don't know for certain," he replied,
"but I think you are Rich-^rd Howell's
daughter. Any way, you are the very coun-
terpart of his sister's picture."

"Mrs. Thornton, you mean," returned
Mildred. There's a portrait of her at Law-
rence's home. Almost everybody spoke of
the resemblance while I was there ; and once
some one made a suggestion similar to yours,
but Mr. Thornton said he knew every inch of
ground Richard had gone over from the tini«
he was twelve years old until he went away,
and the thing wasn't possible — that the re-
semblance I bore to tjie Howells was merely
accidental. I don't like Mr. Thornton. He's
just as proud as Geraldine, and acted as if he
were afraid Lawrence would speak to me.
It was ' Lawrence, Lilian wants you ;' 'Law-
rence, hadn't you beeter take Lilian to ride,
while I show Miss Howell my geological
specimens.* Just a« though I cared for
those old stones. He needn't trouble him-
self, though, for I don't like Lawrence half
a-i well as I do you. But I must go back to
Lilian— she'll wonder that 1 leave her so
long.

" Lilian is here," said a childish voice.and
both Oliver and Mildred started quickly, as
a little figure advanced from its position near

the doorway, where, for the last two minutes,
it had been standing.

Oliver's first thought was, "she had heard
all Mildred said ; she had no business to
come up so quietly," and with his previouMly
formed impressions of the little lady, he wus
not prepared to greet her very C(»rdially.
But one glance at the baby face which turned
towards him as Mildred said: "This is Oli-
ver, Miss Vcille," convinced him that, if she
had heard anything, it had not offended
her. Indce<l, Lilian Veille belonged to the
class of whom it has been truly said, " they
do not know enough to be offended."

She was a cood-natured, amiable girl, and
though usually frank and open-hearted, she
would sometimes stoop to deceit, particular-
ly if her own interests were concerned. At
home she had been petted and caressed until
she was a thoroughly spoiled, selfish child,
exacting from others attentions and favours
whic'i she was never willing to render back.
All this Oliver aaw before she had been ten
minutes in his presence, but he could not
dislike her any more than ho could have
disliked a beautiful, capricious baby; and
he began to understand in part why Mildred
should feel so strong an attachment for her.
She was naturally very familiar and affection-
ate, and as Mildred had resumed her seat
upon the stool, she sat down upon the floor,
and laying both her soft hands on Oliver's
knee, began to talk with him as if she had
known him all her life, stipulating, on the
start, that he shouldn't say a word to he*
of bonks, as she detested the whole thing.

" Mildred will tell you how little I know,"
she said. " She used to do my sums, trans-
late Tiy French, write my couipositionf, and
some of my letters, too. Do you know
Lawrence, Mr. Hawkins?"

Oliver replied that he had seen him, and
Lilian continued :

"Isn't he splendid ? All the Boston girls
are ready to pull caps over him but he don't
care for any of them. I used to think may-
be he'd fall in love with Milly ; but— Geraldins
says she knows too much for a man like him
really to care for; and I guess she does, for
anybodj can see I'm a simpleton— and he
certainly likes me the best— don't he, Milly ?
Why, how red your cheeks are — and no
wonder, it's so hot in this pent-up room.
Let's go down," and without waiting for an
answer, Lilian tripped down the stairs, fol-
lowed by Mildred and Oliver— the latter
having forgotten his headache in the plea-
sure of seeing his former playmate.

"Now where?" asked Lilian, as they;
emerged into the open air.

"Home, I guess," siid Mildred, and
bidding Oliver good-night, they went back
to Beechwood, where tixey found the Jndgo;

LILIAN AND MILDRED.

I 9fi»

wo niiniitea,

i had heard
business to
i previously
ivdy, he wj*i
r cordially,
hich turned
This is OH-

that, if she
ot offended
igod to the
laid, "they
ed."

>le girl, and
icarted, she

particular-
jerued. At
ressed until
ellish child,
and favours
ender back,
id been ten
le could not
could have

baby; and
fhy Mildred
lent for her.
id affection-
led her seat
)U the floor,
on Oliver'*

if she had

ing, on the
word to he*
ole thing,
tie I know,"
ums, trant-
sitionp, and
you know

in him, and

Boston girls
at he don't
think may-
— Geraldins
xn like him
le does, for
in — and he
b he, Milly ?
re — and no
it-up room.
iting for an
i stairs, fol-
-tho latter
n the plea-

as they.

Idred, and
went back
1 the Judgo;

impatiently waiting for them. He wanted
Boino music, he said, and he kept Mildred,
who was a fine performer, singing and play-
ing for liim until it was long after his bed-
time, and Lilian began to yawn very de-
cidedly.

"She was bored almost to death," she
said, as she at last followed Mildred up the
stairs. " She didn't like Becchwood at all,
thus far — she did wish Lawrence Thornton
would come out there," and with a dis-
agreeable expression upon her pretty face,
she nestled down among her pillows,
while Mildred, who was slower in her
movements, still lingered before the mirror,
brushing her rich brown hair.

Suddenly Lilian started up, exclaiming :
" I've got it, Milly, I've got it."

"Got what?" asked Mildred, in some
surprise, and Lilian rejoined, " Lawrence
comes home from Chicago to-night, you
know, and when he finds I'm gone, he 11 be
horridly lonesome, .ind his father's dingy
old office will look dingier than ever. Sup-
pose I write and invite him to come out
here, saying you wish it, too?"

" Well, suppose you do." returned Mil-
dred with utmost gravity. " There's plenty
of materials in my desk. Will you write
sitting up in bed?" and in the eyes which
looked every way but Lilian there was a
spice of mischief.

" You hateful thing," returned Lilian.
*' You know well enough when I say '/ am
going to write to Lawrence,' I mean you are
going to write. He's so completely hood-
winked that I cannot now astonish him with
one of my milk-and-water epistles. Why, I
positively spell worse and worse, so Gerald-
ine says. Think of my putting an A in pre-
cious I "

"But Lawrence will have to know it
sometime," persisted Mildred, "and the
longer it is put off the harder it will be for
you."

"He needn't know either," said Lilian.
"I mean to have you give me ever so many
drafts to carry home, and if none of them
suit the occasion Geraldine must write,
though alio bungles awfully. And when I'm
his wife, I sha'n't care if he does know. He
can't help himself tlien. He'll have to put
up with liis putty head."

" Put will ho respect you, Lily, if he finds
you deceived Jiiin to the last?" Mildred
aaUod • and with a look very much like a
frown ii! her soft blue eyes, Lilian replied :
" Now, -Milly, I believe you are in love with
him yi)iirself, and do this to be spiteful, but
you needn't. Fiis father and Geraldine have
always told him he should marry me, and
ouce wlien some one teased him about yuu, I
heard him say that he should 't want to mar-

ry a woman unless he knew something of her
family, for fear they might prove to be pau-
pers, or even worse. Oh, Milly, Milly, I
didn't mean to make you cry ! " and jumping
upon the floor, impulsive Lilian wonnd her
arms around Mildred, whose tears were
dropping fast.

Mildred could not have told v^hy she
cried. She only knew that Lilian's words
grated harshly, but hers was a sunshiny na-
ture, and conquering all emotion, she re-
turned Lilian's caress, and said : "I will
write the letter, Lily — write it to-night, if
you like."

" I knew you would. You're a splendid
girl," and giving her another hug Lilian
jumped back into bed, anrl made herself
quite comfortable while Mildred knotted up
her silken hair and brought out her desk
preparatory to her task.

Never before had it caused her so much
pain to write "Dear Lawrcace" as to-night,
and she was tempted to omit it, but Lilian
was particular to have every word. "She
never could remember, unless she saw
it before her, whether the ' Dear ' and the
' Lawrence ' occupied the same or separate
lines," she said ; so Mildred wrote it down at
last, while half im consciously to herse'f she
repeated the words, "Dear Lawrence."

"You merely wish tj invito him here ?"
she said to Lilian, who answered: "That's
the main thing; but you must write three
pages at least, or he won't be satisfied. Tell
him what a nice journey wo had, and how
pleasant Beechwood is. Tell him all about
your now piano, and what a splendid giil
you are — how I wonder he never fell in love
with you — but I'm glad he didn't ; tell'him
how much Oliver knows, and how much bet-
ter he looks than I thought he did ; that if-
he was bigger and hadn't such funny feet,
he'd almost do for you ; toll him how dearly
I like him — Lawrence, I mean, not Oliver,
— how glad I shall he wiion he comes, and
Geraldine must seiid my coral ear-rings an I
bracelets, and "

"Stop, stop ! You drive me distracted !'*
cried Mildred, who, from this confused jum-
ble, was trying to make out a sensible letter.

Her task was finished at last, and she sub-
mitted it to Lilian's iii.spection.

" But you didn't tell iiim what a splendid
girl you are, nor how nuicli I like him," said
Lilian, her countenanoe fidling at once.
" Can't you add it in a pobtoiipt somehow ?"

"Never mind, Lily," returned Mildred,
lifting one of the h^ng golden curls which
had escaped fron; iho lace cap. " He knows
you like him, and when he comes ynu can
tell him anything you please of me. It does
not look well in me to be wiiliug my owa
oraisea."

MILDRED.

"But you used to," said Lilian. " You
wrote to him once, * I love Mildred Howell
best of anybody in the world, don't you,'
and he answered back, ' Yes, next to you.
Fairy, I love Mildred best.' Don't you re-
member it, Milly ?"

Milly di<l remember it, and remembered,
too, how that answer had wrung from her
bitter tears ; but she made no reply, and, as
Lilian began to show signs of sleepiness, she
arose cautiously and put aside the letter,
which would be copied next morning in
Lilian's <lelicate little hand and aent on its
way to Boston.

CHAPTER VIIL

LAWRENCE AND HIS FATHEB.

"Lawrence, step in here for a moment," said
Mr. Thornton; and Lawrence, equipped for
travelling, with carpet bag, duster and shawl,
followed his father into the library, where
all the family edicts were issued and all the
family secrets told. "Lawrence, Geraldine
tells me you are going to Beechwood for three
or four days."

'* Why, yes," returned the son. ''I re-
ceived a letter from Lilian last night invit-
ing me to come. I told you of it at the time,
else ray memory is very treacherous."

"It may be — I don't remember," said the
father ; "but Gera'dine has given me a new
idea about your going there, and it is for this
that I have called you in. Lawrence do you
love Lilian VeiUe ? '

"Why do you ask me that question, when
you know that 1 have always loved her ?"
wau the reply, and Mr. Thornton continued :
•'Y'es, yes, but how do you love her — as a
sister — as a cousin— or as one whom you in*
tend to make your wife ?'*

"I have been taught to think of her as one
who was to be my wife, and I have tried to
follow my instructions."

"Sit down, sit down," said Mr. Thornton,
for Lawrence had risen to his feet. "I have
not hnished yet. Lilian has been with us for
years, uind I who have watched her carefully,
know that in all the world there is not a
purer, more innocent young girl. She is
suited to you in every way. She has money
— her family is one of the first in the land,
and more than all, she has been trained to
believe that you would some day make her
your bride."

"Please come to the point," interrupted
Lawrence, consulting his watch. "VVhat
would you have me do ?"

"I would have tho matter settled while
you are at Beechwood. She is eighteen now,
you are twenty-three; I have made you my
partner in business, and should like to see
Lilian mistress of my house. So arrange it at

once, instead of spending your time fooling
with that girl, Mildred," and with this the
whole secret was out, and LaAvrence knew
why he had been called into the library and
subjected to that lectare.

Mildred Howell was a formidable obstacle
in the way of Lilian Veillu's advance-
ment. This the lynx-eyed Geraldine
had divined, and with her wits all
sharpened, she guessed that not Lilian
alone was taking the yofing man to Beech-
wood. So she dropped a note of warning into
the father's ear, ana new, outside the door,
waa listening to the conversation.

"I have never fooled with Mildred
Ilowell," said Lawrence, and his father re*
joined quickly :

" How, then t Are yoa in earnest ? D«
you love he* I"

"I am not bonnd to answer that," re-
turned Lawrence; " though I will say that
in some respects I think her far superior to
Lilian."

" Superior I" repeated the father, pacing
up and down the room. "Your suoeriot
women do not always make their husbands
happy. Listen to me, boy — I have been
married twice. I surely ought to judge in
these matters better than yourself. Your
mothrr was a gentle, amiable creature, much
like Lilian Veille. You inherit her disposi*
tion, though not her mind— thank Heaven,
not her mind 1 I was happy with hei*, but
she died, and then I married one who was
famed for her superior intellect quite as
much as for the beauty of her peruon — and
what was the result ? She never gave me a
word or a look different from what she would
have given to an entire stranger. Indeed,
she seemed rather to avoid me, and, if I
came near, she pretended always to b« oo*
cupied either with a book or with you. And
yet I was proud of het, Lawrence — proud of
my girlish oride, and when she died I ehed
bitter tears over her coffin."

Lawrence Thornton was older now than
when he sat upon the river bank, and told
little Mildred Hawkins of his beautiful
young step-mother, and he knew why she
had shrunk from his father's caresses and
withered beneath his breath— bo he ventured
at last to say :

" Mildred Howell was young enough to be
your daughter, and should never have been
your wife."

"It was not that— it was not that," re-
turned the father, stiffly. " There was no
compulsion used ; she was too intellectual—
too independent— too high-tempered, I tell
you, and this other one is like her in every-
thing."

"How do you account for that?" asked
Lawrence, who had his owu private theory

LAWRENCE AND IllS FATHER.

iir time fooling

with this the

iawrence knew

;he library and

lidable obstacle
illo's advance-
red Oeraldine

her wits all
at not Lilian

man to Beech-
of warning into
itside the door,
bion.

with Mildred
1 his father re*

a earnest? !)•

iwer that," re*

I will say that

far superior to

I father, pacing
'Your BuoerioT
their husbands
— I have been
;ht to judge in
yourself. Your
I creature, much
}rit her disposi*
-thank Heaven,
y with hei', but
id one who was
ellect quite as
ler peraon — and
never gave me a
1 what she would
inger. Indeed,

I me, and, if I
.ways to be oc-
with you. And
^rence — proud of

she died I shed

older now than
bank, and told

if his beautiful
knew why she

it's caresses and

— 80 he ventured

mg enough to be
never have been

B not that," re.
"There was no
oo intellectual—
tempered, I tell
ko her in every-

for that f* asked

II private theory

f^*

with regard to Mildred's pftrentasc

"I don't account for it," said Mr. Thorn-
ton. ** 1 only know she is not at all con*
nt'cted with the Howells. She is tiic child
of some poor wretch who will be claiming
her one day. It would be vastly agreeable,
wouldn't it, to see a rn^;ged j)auper, or may-
be something worse, ringing at our door,
and claiming Mrs. Lawrence Thornton for
her daughter ! Lawrence, that of itself is a
Builicicnt reason why you must not marry
Mildred, even if there M'ere no Lilian, who
has a prior claim."

•'Father," said Lawrence, "you think to
disgust me, 1)ut it cannot be done. 1 like
Mildred Howell. I think her the most
splendid creature I ever looked upon; and
were 1 a little clearer as to her family,
Lilian's interest might perhaps be jeopard-
ized."

"Thank Heaven, then, that her family is
shrouded in mystery ! " said Mr. Thornton,
while Lawrence sat for a moment intently
thinking.

Then suddenly springing np and seizing
his father's arm, he asked :

" Did you ever know for certain that the
child of sister Helen died ?"

"Know for certain! Yes. What put
that idea into your head T " Mr. Thornton
asked, and Lawrence replied :

"The idea w&s not really in there, for I
know it is not so, though it mi&ht have
been, I dare say ; for, if I remember right,
no one save an old nurse was with Helen
when she died, while even that miserable
Hawley, her husband, was in New Or-
leans."

"Yes," returned the father, "Hawley
was away, and never, I think, came back to
inqnirejlfter his wife or child, for he, too,
died within the year."

"Then how do you know that Mildred is
not that child ? " persisted Lawrence — not
because he had the most remote belief that
she was, but because he wished to see how
differently his father would speak of her if
there was the slightest possibility of her be-
longing to the Thornton line.

" I know she isn't," said the father. "I

went to No. 20 Street myself, and

talked with Estlier Bennett, the old woman
who took care of Helen, and then of the
child nntil it died. She was a weird, hag-
gish looking creature, but it was the truth
she told. No, you can't impose that tale on
me. This Mildred is not my grandchild."

" For which I fervently thank Heaven,"
was Lawrence's response ; and in these
words the black-eyed Geraldine, watching
by the dnor, read how dear Mil-
dred Howell was to the young
man, and ho\r the finding her to be his sister's

child would be worse to him than death it*
self.

"He shall rot win her, though," she
muttered between her glittering teeth, "if I
can prevent it, and 1 think I c.in. That last
idea is a t'ood one, and I'll jot it down in
my book of memory for future use, if need
be."

Geraldine Veille was a cold-hearted, un-
principled woman, whose early affections
had been blighted, and now at thirty-one she
was a treacherous, int.-iguing creature, void
of heart or soul, except where Lilian was
concerned. In all the world there was noth-
ing half so dear to the proud woman as her
young half-sister, and, as sonre tierce tigress
keeps guard over itsonly remaining oflTspring,
so she watched with jealous eye to see that
nothing harmed her Lilian. For Mildred
Howell she had conceived a violent aversion,
beeanse she knew that one of Lawrence
Thornton's temperament could not fail to be
more or less influenced by such glouing
beauty and sparkling wit as Mildred pos-
sessed.

During the long vacation which Mildred
spent in the family she had barely tolerated
her, while Mildred's open defiance of her
opinions and cool indifTerence to herself
had only widened the gulf between
them. _ She had at first opposed Lil-
ian's visiting Beechwuod, but when she
sa .v how her heart was bent upon it, she
yielded the point, thinking the while that if
Lawrence on his return showed signs of go-
ing, too, she would drop a hint into hi*
father's ear. Lawrence was going — she had
dropped her hint— and, standing ovtside
the dooi*, she had listened to the re-sn)'.;, and
received a suggestion on which to act in case
of necessity.

Well satisfied with her morning's work,
she glided up the stairs just as Lawrence
came from the library and passed out into
the street. His interview with his father
had somehow disturbed him. wiiile at the
same time it had helped to iimw him how
strong a place Mildred iia \ in iiu< allcctions.

"And yet why should I think so much of
her ?" he said to himself, as he walked slowly
on. "She never can be anything to me moie
than she is. 1 must marry Lilian, of court^o,
just as I have always supposed I should.
But I do wish she knew a little more. Only
think of her saying, the other day, that
New Orleans was in Kentucky, and Uome in
Paris, she believed I How in tlie name of
wonder did she manage to graduate ?"

Mildred Howell, who sat next to Lilian at
the examination, might have enlii^hteiied
him somewhat, but as she was not there, he
continued his cogitations.

"Yes, 1 do wonder how ^he happened to
graduate, knowing; as liUlc ;!" hooks as she

MILDRED.

I' i

dno3. She writes Biilciididly, though !" and,
an liy this tini'! he li.id reached the Worocater
depot, ho stojipod into a car and prepared ti>
read aijain the letler received the previous
night from liilian. " Siie has a mosc happy
way of committing her ideas to paper,'' he
thought. "There must he more iu her head
than her converaatioii indicates. Perliaps
father is ri^lit, after all, in saying ahe will
make abetter wife than Mildred."

CHAPTER IX.

LAWRENCE AT BEECHWOOD.

'V^Mne, Milly "do hurry!" said'Lilian to
Mildred on tlie afternoon of the day when
Lawrence was cxpcctud "It seems as
though yon i\evcr would got all that hair
braided. Thirty strands, aa I live, and he:e
I am wanting' y«a to (ix my curls, you do it
80 much bettor tlian I can."

"Plenty of time," returned Mildred;
" Lawrence won't bo here this hour."

" But I'm going to the depot," returned
Lilian; "and I saw Finn go out to harness
just now. Oh, I am so anxious to see him !
Why, Millio, you don't know a thing about
it, for you never loved anybody like Law-
rence Thornton."

"How do you know?" asked Mildred;
and catcliing in.stantly at the possibility im-
plied, Lilian exclaimed;

" Do you, as true as vou live, love some-
body?"

" Yes, a great many somebodies," was the
answer, wlule Lilian persisted:

" Yes, yes ; but I mean some mmi — some-
body like Lawrence Thornton. Tell me ! "
and tlio little beauty began to pout quite
becomingly at Mildred's want of confidence
in her.

" Yes, Lily," said Mildred at last, " I do
love somebody quite as well as you love Law-
rence Thornton, but it is useless to ask his
name, as I sliall not tell.

Lilian saw she was in earnest, and she
forebore to question her, though she did so
wish she knew; and dipping her brush in the
marble basin, and letting the water drip all
over the light carpet, she stood puzzling her
weak brain to think "who it was Mildred
Howell loved.

The beautiful braid of thirty strands was
finished at last, and then Mildred declared
herself ready to attend to Lilian, who rattled
on about Lawrenoe, saying, " she did not ask
Mildred to go with lier to the station because
she always liked to bo alone with him. That
will do ! " she cried, just as the la^t curl was
brushed; and, leaving Mildred to pick up tiie
numernns articles of feminine wear, which
in dressiivj; she had kft just where she stepped
o.it of them, she tiinped gracjfnlly down the

walk, and, entering the carriage, was driven
to the depot.

" Two lovers, a bndy'd suppose by their
actions," said • a plain, out-spoken farmer,
who chanced to bo at tlio station and wit-
nessed the meeting ; while Finn, who had
been promoted to the oifico of coachman,
rolled his eyes knowingly us he held the door
for them to enter.

"Oh, I'm 80 glad you've come!" s.aid
Lilian, leaning back upon the cushions, and
throwing aside her hat the better to display
her curls, which Mildred had arranged Avith
agreatdeal of taste, "I've been moped al-
most to death. "

" Why, I thought you said in your letter
you were having a most delightful time 1"

And Lawrence looked smilingly down up«
on the little lady, who replied :

"Did she I— did It _ Well, then, I guess I
am ; but it's a heap nicer, now you've come.
Mildred seems to me a little bit sober. Law-
rence," and Lilian spoke in a whisper, for
they were now ascending a hill, and she did
not care to havo Finn hear, — "Lawrence, I
know something about Mildred, but yo\i
mustn't never tell, — will you ? She's in love
with a man I She told me so confidentially
this morning, but wouldn't tell me his name.
Why, how your face flushes up ? It is awful
hot — ain't it?" and Lilian began to fan her-
self with her leghorn hat, while Lawrence,
from the window, and watching the wheels
grinding into the gravelly sand, iudulned
himself in thouuhts not wholly comp'-Miont-
ary either to Lilian or the man whuiu Mil-
dred Howell loved.

" What business had Lilian to betray ^lil-
dred's confidence, even to him ? Had she no
delicate sense of honour? Or what business
had Mildred to be in love?" and, by^^^ie tima
the carriage turned into the avenue, Law-
rence was about as uncomfortable iu his mind
as he well could be.

" There's Mildred J Isn't she beautiful
with those white flowers in her hair?" cried
Lilian ; and looking up, Lawrence saw Mil-
dred standing near a maple a little way in
advance.

With that restlessness natural to people
waiting the arrival of guests, she had left the
Judge and Oliver, who were sitting in the
parlour, and walked slowly down the avenue
until she saw the carriage coming, when she
stopiied beneath the tree.

"Get in here, Milly— get in," saiil Lilian;
and, hastily aligliting, Lawrence offered her
his hand, feeling strongly toiuotcd to press
tlio warm lingers, which he fancied trembled
slightly in his own.

"Slie has been walking fast," he thought,
and he was about to say so, when Liliau
startled them with the ex'jlamation :

BSl

col

Mi
ha]

an(
Ilk]

Mil
anf

"\1

be(

yoij
yoi|

you

LAWRENOE AT IlKECHWOOD.

ge, was driven

pposo by their
poUen farmer,
ntion and wit-
'inn, wl^o had
of coachman,
i held tho duor

come !" said
cushions, and
;tcr to display
arranged with
eon moped al-

in your letter
tfultiniel"
gly down up«

hon, I guess I
' you've come.
t sober. Law*

whisper, for
1, and she did
"Lawrence, I
•cd, but you

She's iulova
Qoutidontially
rac his name.
? It is awful
in to fan her*
ile Lawrence,
[ig the wheels
nd, iiiJulyed

comi)'''iioiit-
t whuiu Mii*

lictray Mil-
Had she no
lat business
by«^ie tima
venue. Law
in his mind

beautiful
vir?" cried
CO saw Mil-
ttle way in

to people

lad left the

ting in the

the avenue

when she

said Lilian;
ofTered her
3(1 t'j press
d trembled

le thought,
'hen Lilian
•n J

/<»

••Why don't y>ju kiss her, Lawrence, just
at you do iiio ''."

Lawrence thought of tho man, and rather
coolly replied :

"1 never kissed Miss Howell in my life,
— neither wouUl she care to have me."

•• PerliapH not," returned Lilian, while
Mddred's cheeks flushed crimson, — "per-
haps not, for hhc is a bit of a prude, I think;
and then, too, I heard her say slie didn't
like you as well as she did Clubs."

"Oh, Lilian, when did 1 eay so?" and
Mildred's eyes for an instant dashed witli
anger.

"You needn't be so mad," laughed Lilian.
"You did say so, that tirst night 1 came
bere. . Don't you remember, that I surprised
you telling Oliver how uncle Thornton kept
you looking over those old stones for fear
you'd talk with Lawrence, and how you hated
them ail V

I "Lilian," said Lawrence, sternly, "no true
woman would ever wantonly divulge the sec-
rete of another, patticulaily if that other be
her chosen friend."

"S'pectedtliey'd end in a row when I seen
'em so lovin'," muttered Finn; and, hurrying
up his horses, he drew up at the gate
just as Lilian began to pout, Mildred to
cry, and Lawrence to wish he had stayed at
home.

"Tears, Gipsy? Yes, tears as true as I
live," said tlie Judge, who had come down
to meet them, and with, liis broad hand he
wiped away tho drops resting on Mildred's
lung eyelashes.

"Nothing but perspiration," she answered,
laughingly, while the Judge VQJoined :

"Hanged if I ever sa\y sweat look like
tiiatl" < ' ■

"Telling him- "he ha4»** seen everything
yet," she forced her old ^on^y. smile to her
jfaceand ran up the walk, followed by Law-
rence and Lilian, wIiq. ere they reached the
portico were on the best of terms, Lilian havo
lug called hiin a "^reat hateful," while he in
return had playfully pulled one of her lony
curls. The ilouil, however, (,l>d not so soon

Euss from Mildred's hqi^rt, for she hnew
ia\vrenco Thornton , liad received a
wrong impression, and, what was worse
than all, there was no means of rectifying

"Wliat is it, Gipsy? V/hat ails you?",
asked tho judge, noticing her abstraction.
"I thought you'd, be in tlio scveutli, heaven
when you got Lawrence Thornton here, and
now lie's como you are bluer than a whet-
stone."

Suddenly remembering that she must give

some directions for supper, Mildred ranoU'to

the kitchen, where slie found Finn

edifying his sister Lucy with an account

of the meeting between Lawrence and
Lilian.

"She stood there all ready," said he, "and
the minute tho cars stopped he made a div««
.•\nd hugged her — so," and Finn's long arms
wound themselves round tho sliouldera of his
portly mother, who repaid him with a cuiF
such as slid had been wont to give him in his
babyhood.

"Miss Lily didn't do that way, I tell yon,"
said Finn, rubbing his ear ; "she liked it and
stood as still. But who do you s'pcct Miss
Milly's in love with? Miss Lily tcld Mr.
Thornton how she 'fessed to her this morning
that he loved a men."

"Incourse she'dlove a man," put in Rachel.
"She'd look well loviu' a gal, wouldn't
she?"

"There ain't no bad taste about that,
nuther, let me tell you, old woman,"
and Finn's brawny feet began to cut his
favourite pigeon wing as he thought of a
certain yellow girl in the village. " I
axes yer pardon. Miss Milly !" he exclaimed,
suddenly bringing his pigeon wing to a close
as he caught sight of Mildred, who had over-
heard every word he said.

With a heart full almost to bursting she
hastily issued her orders, and then ran up to
her room, and, throwing herself upon the bod,
did what auy girl would have done, cried
with all her might.

"To think Lily should have told him that!"
she exclaimed passionately. " I wish he had
not come here.

"You don't wish so any more than 1,"
chimed in a voice, which sounded much like
that of Lilian Veille.

, 8he knew that Mildred was oflended. and»
seeing her go up the stairs, she had followed
Do make peace, if possible, for Lilian, while
occasionally transgressing, was constantly
asking forgiveness.

"I'm always doing something silly," she
said; "and then you did tell Clubs yon
didn't like Lawrence.''

" It is not that," sobbed Mildred, "Fina
says you told him 1 loved somebody."

" 'i'he hateful nigger!" exclaimed Liliaru
"\Vliat business had he to listen and then t*
blab? If there's anything I hate it's a
tattler 1"

"Then why don't you quit it yourself I"
asked Mildred, jerking away from the hand
wliich was trying to smooth the braid of
thirty strands.

" Wliat an awfu'. temper you have got,
Milly I" eaid Lilian, seating hersflf very
composedly by the window, and looking out
upon tlie lawn. "I should suppose youM try
to control it this hot day. I'm almost
melted now."

And thus showing how little she roallv

MILDRED.

cared for her fnoliih thoiv^'litlesnnesR, Lilian
fftiiU'il liiT3elf coiniilaccntly, woiideiing why
MiMrc-d should feel so hadjy if Lawrenee did
know.

" (iipsy," culled the Judge from the lower
hall," supper ii on the tabic Come
down."

Ill the present umulition of her face Mil-
di'dil would not for the world show her-
mli to Liiwrouce Thorntou, and she said to
Lilian :

'' Vou make some excaie for me, won't
you Y'

"I'll toll them you're mad," returned
Lilian, and she did, adding by way of ex-
ptanatiiiu : " Milly told mu this morning she
was in love, I told Lawrence, Finn overheard
mo, and like a meddlesome fellow as he is,
repeatod it to Mildred, who is as spuuky
aljout it as you please."

"Mildred in love !" repeated the
Judge. " Who in thumler is she in lovo
■with ?"

Ill a difTeront form Lawrence had asked
him''«;lt' that same question many a time
witliin the last hour ; but not caring to hear
the 8iil)ject (li'cussud, ho adroitly turned the
conversation to other topics, and Mildred
soon lie.'ird thorn talking pleasantly together,
whilo Lilian's merry laughter tohl timt her
mind at least was quite at ease. Lilian could
not be unhappy loug, and now was quito de-
lighted to nnd herself the sole object of
attraction to three of the male species.

Supper being over, she led the way to the
back piazza, whorp sicting close to Law-
rence, she rattled ou in her simple, childish
way, never dreaming how, while seeming to
listen, each of her auditors was thinking of
Mihlrcn and wishing she was there.

Fur a time Oliver lingered, hoping Mildred
wouhl join them again, b'lt as she did not,
he at la..*t took hia leave. From her window
MiMred saw him going down the Cold
8pring patli, and with a restless desire to
know if he thought she had acted very
foolisldy, she stole out of the back way,
and, taking a circuitous route to avoid ob-
servation, reached the gable-roof and
knocked at the door of Oliver's room just
after he had entered it.

"May I come in '!" she said.

"Certainly," he answered. "You are
alvvays welcome."

Anil lie pushed toward her the st^ol ou
which she sat, but pushed it too far from
himself to suit Mildred's ideas.

She could not remember that sho was no
longer tlie little girl who used to lavish j>o
many sisti-rly caresses upon the boy Oliver ;
ncitlicr did she reflect that she Mas now a
youii'4 lady of seventeen, and he a niuu of
tweutyoae, possessing a man's heart, even

though tho oanket which onshrinod that
heart was blighted and deformed.

" I want to put my head in your Up juit
as I used to do," she said ; and, drawing ih«
stool closer to him, she rested her burning
check upon his knee, and then waited (or
him to speak.

"You have been cryinj;, Milly," he said
at la^t, and sho replied :

" Ves, I've had un awful day. Lilian led
me into confessing that I lovrd somebody,
never dreaming tiiat she wtuild tell it to
Lawrence ; but she did, and sho told him,
too, th.it I said I hated all^ the Thorntona.
Oh, Oliver, what must he think of me?^

" Foi' loving 8otue(>ody or hatinff th*
Thorntons, which ?" Oliver asked, ana Mil
dred replied ;

" Both are bad enough, but I can't beat
to have him think I hate him, for I don't.
I — oh, Oliver, can't you guess ? don't you
know ?— though why ihould you when yoo
hove loved only me ?"

"Only you, Milly— only you," nid
Oliver, while there came a mist before hie
eves as ho thought of tho hopeless anguish
the loving her had broucht him-

Hut not for the world would he sufTer her
to know of the lovo which had become a
part of his very weary life, and he was glad
that it was growing dark, so she couhl not
see the whiteness ol his face, nor tho effort
that it cost him to say in his quiet tone :

"Milly, do you love Lawrence Thorn*
ton?"

He know she did, but he would rather
she should tell him so, for ho fancied that
mij^ht help kill the pain which was gnawing
at his heart.

" I have never kept anything from von,
Oliver," she said ; "aud, if you arc willing
to be troubled, I waul to tell you all about
it. Shall]?"

" Yes, tell me," he replied ; and, nestling
so close to him that she miuht have heaid
the beating of his heart, Mildred t<>!d him
of her love, which was so hopelo.s.* Dccause
of Lilian Veille.

"I shall never be married, "she said; "and
when we are old wc will live together, you
and I, and I shall forget lliat 1 ever loved
anyl»ody better than you ; lor J do — torgive
me, Oliver," and her little, Roft, wann ha.nd
crept after tho cold, clainnty ono, which
moved further away as heis a|tproac!tcd, and
nt lust hid it:<c-l( behind the chair, while
IMildred coutiiuied : "1 d«i love lii«n tho
best, thuugli he li.as never been to lue what
you have, liut 1 unn't htlpit. Vou are ^ny
brother, you koow, aisd it'* nil po ditlcrent
I don't hiippi.se you can uii.lc'i.^t.'unl 't, but
try to iiuamue tiiit you are m^l Iniue. nor
small, but tull aud tttruighc, aud xMuIy m

iiialirinod tbat

ried.

1 your hp juat

1(1, drawing iha

sd her burning

ben waited (or

Milly." he said

ay. Lilian led
vrd somebody,
>itld tell it to
she told him,
the Thorntona.
ik of me f
ir hatinff th«
sked, and Mil

Lit I can't beat
ini, for I don't.
!83? don't you
you when you

you," taid
mist before hie
tpelees anguish

no.

Id he Bufler her
had beconio a
nd he was glad
) she could not
, nor the effort
uiet tone :
yreuce Thorn*

would rather
)e fancied that
was gnawing

THK UIVEll .

ing
rou
yoi

from von,

arc willing

lu all about

and. nestlins
It liave heaid
red t'>!d him
}e\i.-!if i)ccau»e

he said; "and
tngcllier, you

1 ever loved
1 <l(> — torgive
t, waiiii hand
oiii', which
)rnachcd, aivd

cliair, while
ovu liitn the
1 to i(»v' what
S'liti are Iny

pfi ilillcrent
.^t.iinl 't, but

let I.Tine, nor

lid I'l iiily as

l^wrnnoo Thornton, and that you loved
somebody— me, perhaps."

" Yes, you— say you, Milly," and the poor,
deformed Oliver felt a thrill of jov as ho
thou)^ht of himself " tsH, and straight, and
handsome, and loving Mildred Howell."

"And suppose I did not love you in re-
torn," said Mildred, " wouldn't vour heart
auhe S.S it never has ached yet ? "

Oliver could have told her of a heartache
such as she had never known, but he dared
not, and he was about framing some word of
comfort, when Judge UoweU's voice was
heard below, asking if hia runaway were
there.

"Oh, it's too bad!" said Mildred. "I
wanted to have <uch a nice long talk, and
have not said a word I came to say ; but it
can't be helped."

And kissing the lips which inwardly kissed
her back a thousand times, though out vaidly
they did not move, she hurried down the
stairs where the Judge was waiting for her.

" I thought I should find yon here," he
said, adding that it was not polite in her to
flare up at nothing, and run off from her
guests.

Mildred made no reply, and knowing from
past experience that it \^a8 not always safe
to reprove her, the Judge walked on in silence
until they reached the house. Where Lilian
greeted Mildred as if nothing had occurred,
while Lawrence made himself so agreeable,
that when at last they separated for the night
the shadow was entirely gone from Mildred's
face, and nearly so from her heart.

. CHAPTER X.

TUB RIVKR.

The next day was excessively hot and
sultry, confining the young people to the
cool, dark parlour where Lilian tanned her-
self furiously, while Lawrence turned the
!>age8 of a book, and Mildred drummed list-
esaly upon the piano. Oliver did not join
them, and Luce, who, before dinner went
down to the Cold Spring for water, brought
back the news that he was suffering from one
of bis nervous headaches.

" He needs more exercise," said Lawrence.
" I mean to take him with me this afternoon
when 1 go down to bathe in the river."

Accordingly, about four o'clock, he called
upon Oliver, who looked pale and haggard,
as if yearij of suffering had passed over him
since the previous night. Still, he was so
much better, that Lawrence ventured to pio-
poae hia going to the river.

" No matter if you can't awim, ' he said ;
" you can sit upon the grass and look at me. ''

Oliver knew that the fresh air would do
him good, and he went at last with Law-

cnce to the quiet spot which the latter had
■elected, partly because it was remote from
any dwelling, and partly because the water
was deeper there thp at the points higher
up. Sitting down oeneath a tree, Wnicr
grew near to the bank, Oliver watched hh
companion, as he plunged boldly into this
stream, and struck out for the opposite
shorq.

" Why am I not like him. instead of being
thus feminine and weak r' was the bitter
thought creeping into Oliver's heart, when
suddenly a fearful cry rose on the air— a cry
of "Help! I'm cramped! oh, help me
Clubs! " and turning in the direction wheA^A
it came, Oliver saw a frightened face disii'p-
poaring beneath the water, While the out-
stretched hand, which W6nt down last,
seemed imploi'ing him for aid.

In an instant Oliver stood by th« river
bank, and when the face came up again, he
saw that it was whiter than before, and the
voice was fainter which uttered another name
than that of Clubs. At tlrst Oliver thought
he was mistaken, but when it came a second
time, he reeled as if smitten by a heavy blow,
for he knew then that the drowning man had
cried out:

" Milly I dear Milly ! " aa if he thns would
bid her farewell."

For a Bocond Oliver atood spell-bound
while thought after thought traversed his
whirling brain. Lawrenoe was his rival, and
yet not his rival, for, even had he never
been, such as Oliver Hawkins could not hope
to win the queenly Mildred, whose heart
would break when they told her Lawrence
was dead. She would come to him for com-
fort, as she always did, and how could he tell
her he had looked silently on and seen him
die ? There would be bitter reproach in the
eyes which never vet had rested upon him
save in love, and rather than meet that
glance Oliver resdlved at last to save Law-
rence Thornton, even if he perished in the
attempt.

" Nobody will mourn for the cripple," he
said. "Nobody miss me but Mildred, and
Lawrence will comfort her ; " and with one
last, hurried glance at the world whioh had
never seemed so bright as on that Jaly after-
noon, the heroic Oliver sprang into the river,
and struck out for the sjpot where Lawrence
last went down.

He forgot that he had never learned to
swim— nor knew that he was swimming —
for one thought alone was uppermost in his
mind, and that a thought of Mildred. Here
was the name upon his lips— hers the ima g
before his mind as he struggled in the rollins
river — for her he ran that fearful risk — pud
the mighty love be bore her buoyed him up,

MILDRED.

•

'%'

I I

untn he reaolied the spot where the wAtori
were still in wild ooinmotion. IW what
meana he grasped the tui>Kled hair— held up
the rigitl form and took it back to tiio Hhino,
he uovur know, it pasHod so liko adicam.
With an almost Biipcrhuiiianciroit.lio drag^'cd
the body up tho bank, laid it u|)on the grass,
ftnd then his feeble voice, raised to its
highest pitch, went echoing up tho hill, but
brought back no response. Throuj;h the
■oft summer haze he saw the chimneys of
the Becchtvood mansion, and the cunola on
the roof where Mildred often sot, and where
■he was sitting now. But his voice did not
teach hor, or if it did she thought it was
some poor insect'a hum, and turned again
to her book, unmindful cf the dying Law-
rence beneath the maple tree, or of the dis*
tracted Oliver, who knelt above him, feeling
(or his pulse, and dropping tears like rain
open his face.

" I must go for help, and leave him here
alone," he said, at last, and he started on
his way, slowly, painfully, for ere plunging
into the river he had thrown aside his shoes,
and his poor, tender feot had been cut upon
a sharp pointed rock. But he kept on hia
wav, while his knees shook beneath him,
and in his ears there was a buzzing sound
like the rush of many waters. Human
strength could not endure much more, and
by tho time he reached his grandmother's
gate he sunk to the ground, and crawled
■lowly to thedoo. In wild affright old Hep-
ay came out, asking what Nvas the matter.

" Lawrence I " he gasped — ''he's drowned
—he's dead I "

Then from his mouth and nose the
crimson blood qushed out, and Hepsy had
just cause for screaming as she did :

I' Help! Murder 1 Fire! Mildred Howelll
Oliver is dead, and Lawrence too ! "

From her seat in the cupola Mildred heard
the cry, for Hepsy's voice wasshrill and clear,
and it rang out like an alarm-belL Mildred
heard her name and that Oliver was dead,
and bounding down the stairs she went Hy-
ing down the Cold Spring path, while close
behincj her came the wheezing Judge, with
Lilian f(^lowing closely in the rear. On the
floor, just where he had fainted, Oliver was
lying, and Mildred's heart stood still when
sno saw his dripping garments, and the
blood stains round his pallid lips.

"Poor, poor Oliver," she said, kneeling
down beside him, and %vringing his wet hair.
*• Where has he been ? "

At the sound of her voice his eyea nnclosed.
and he whispered faintly : " Lawrence, M il-
ly. Lawrence is dead under that tree."
Then for one brief instant, Mildred fancied
licrself dying, but the sight of Lilian, who

had just come in, brought bank her benumb-
ed faculties, and going up to her, she said :

" Did you hear, Lily? Lawrence is dead
—drowned. Let us go to him together. Ue
is mine, now, as muoh us yours."

•• Oil, I carn't, I carn't ! " sobbed Lilian,
cowering back into a corner. "I'm afraid
of dead [oiks I I'd rather Htayhcre."

"Fool I dough-head!" thundered the
Judge, who thoroughly disliked her, and was
now out of all kind of patience. " Go to the
lu use, then, and ace that his chambar ia
ready for the body;" and witliout waiting to
see if bin orders M'cre obeyed, ho hastened
after Mildred, who was Hying over the dis-
tant fleldH as if she sported a pair of unseen
wings. Shosaw the stains from Oliver's wound-
ed feet, and knowing that she was right she
I an on and on until she rnuchcd the spot,
whither other aid had prece49il her, else
Lawrence had aurely floated down the deep,
dark river of death.

Two villagers, returning from a neighbour-
ing wood, had fnund him lying there, and
wera doing for him what they could when
Mildred came up begging of them to aay if
ho were dead.

"Speak to him, Mies IIowoll," said one of
the men. " That may bring him bwck — it
sometimes does;" 'out Mildred's voice, though
all powerful to unlock Oliver's scattered
senses, could not penetrate the letharpy
which had stolen over Lawrence, and, with
an ominous shake of their heads, the two
men bore him back to the house, where Lil-
ian, in her own room, was sobbing as if her
heart would break, and saying to Rachel's
grandchild, who had toddled in and asked
what was the matter :

" Oh, I don't know ; I want to go home
and see Ger.. t..ne."

"Gohorae, then, and be hanged," the

Judge finally added, speaking the last word
very naturally, as if that were what he had
all the time intended to say. With one
scornful glance at Lilian, who, as Lawrence
was borne past her door, covered her face
with her hands and moaned: "Oh, I can't
look at him," Mildred saw that everything
was made comfortable, and then all through
the anxious, excitinc hour which followed,
she stood bravely by, doing whatever was
necessary for her to do, and once, at her
own request, placing hev warm lips next to
the cola ones of the unconscious man, and
sending her life-breath far down the lungs,
which gave back only a gurgling sound, and
Mildred, when she heard it, turned aw a-,
whispering :

"Ho is dead!" *

But Lawrence was not dead : and whei-.
the night shadows were stealing into the

k hPT bcnumb-
hcr, Bhu*ai*l :

I'lonce is dcml
together. Uo

l-B."

Bobbed Lilian,
"I'm »frftid
y licre."
imulcred the
id her, and waa
.. "Go to the
ia chambar ia
lout waiting to
, ho hastened
over the dis«
|)air of unseoD
)liver'8 wound-
3 was right she
iched the spot,
i(\tf\ her, else
lowu the deep,

m a neighbour-
ing there, and
iy could when
hem to flay if

(11," said one of
him b«ck — it
'b voice, though
;er's scattered
3 the letharpy
uce, and, with
leads, the two
ise, where Lil-
bbing as if her

. in

THE laVKR.

to Rachel's
and asked

It to go home

hanged," the

g the last word

re what he had

ly. With one

as Lawrence

vercd her face

"Oh, I can't

hat everything

lien all through

hich followed,

whatever was

cl once, at her

m lips next to

iou3 man, and

>wn the lungs,

ing sound, and

b, turned aw a- .

ead : and wher.
ealiug into the

room, ho gave Bignn that life was not extinct.
Mihlrcil was thu lirst to diaoovcr it, and her
cry of joy went ringing through the house,
•ud puiiutrutud t<] tlie room where Lilian still
cnworod upou the tloor. But L'liau mistook
the cry, aad graHpuig thu dross of the little
oil lid, who had started to leave her, she
sobbed :

" Don't go, — don't leave me alone, — it's
getting dark, and I'm afraid of ahosts 1"

"Confouudud fool 1" muttered the Judge,
who pAHHcd the door in time to hear the re-
mark, and wliofult strongly tempted to hurl
at iiur head the brandy bottle he carried in
his hand. " It wouldu't make any more
impression though, than on a bat of cotton
wool," ho said, and ho hurried on to the
chamber wiioio Lawrence Thornton was en-
during all tho pnngs of a painful death.

But ho was saved, and when at last the
tieroo struj^gle was over, and the throes of
agony had ceased, he fell away to sleep, and
the uhysiciun bade all leave the room except
Mildred, who must watch him while he
slept.

"Will he live? Is he past all danger?"
she asked, and when the physician answered
"Yes," she said : "Then 1 must go to Oliver.
Lilian will sit with Mr. TJiorntou."

" But is her face a familiar one ? Will he
be pleased to see her here when he wakes ?"
the doctor aska, and Mildred answered sad-
ly:

" Yes, far more pleased than to see me."

" Let her come, then," was the reply, and
hurrying to Lilian, Mildred told her what
was wanted.

"Oh, I carn't, I carn't I and Lilian drew
back. "I ain't used to sick folks 1 I don't
know what to do. You stay, Milly, that's a
deor, good girl."

" But I can't," answered Mildred. "I must
go to 01ivor,rvo neglected him too long, "and
seeing that Lilian sliowcd no signs of yield-
ing, sne took her by the arm, and led her in-
to Lawrence's chamber.

"Sit there," she said, placing her in a chair
by the bedside, "and when he wakes, give
him this," pointing to something in a cup,
which tho doctor liad prepared.

"Oh, it's so dark, and his face so white,"
sobbed Lilian, while Mildred, feeling
btroDgly inclined to box htir ears, bade
her once more sit still, and then hurried
away.

"There's grit for you," muttered the
Judge, who in the next room ^1 overheard
the whole, "There's a girl worth having.
Why, I'd give more for Milly's little ringer
than for tliat gutta percha's whole body.
Afraid of tho Aa,vk—lUlte/ool I How can lie
coo round her as he does ! But I'll put a Ilea
in his ear. I'll tell him that in Mildred

Howell's face, when she thought that ho was
dead, I saw who it was she loved. I ain't
blind," and tho Judge uaoed up and
down the room, while MiMred kept on
her way, and soon reached tlio gable
roof.

"A pretty time of day to get here, "growled
old Hepsy; "after the worst is over, and he
got well to bed. I'd save that city sprig for
you again if I was Clubs."

"Grandmother, nlease go down," said
Oliver, while Mildred, unmindful of old
Hepsy's presence, wound her arms around
his neck, and he could feel her' hot tears
dropping like rain upon his face, as she whis-
pered :

"Darling Oliver, heaven blcsi you, even as
I do. I kubw it must have been so; bu*-. why
did you risk your life for him ? Say, did
you T"

"Grandmother, will you go down ?" Oliver
sold again; and muttering something about
"being glad to get rid of suohsickishuess,"uM
Hepsy hobbled olF,

\Vlien sure thi.t she was gone, Oliver placed
a hand on each side of the faoe bending over
him, and said:

"Don't thank me, Mildred; I don't deserve
it, for my first wicked thought was to let
him drown, but when 1 remembere<l how
much yon loved him, I said I'll save him for
Milly, even though I di«. It is far better
that the poor cripple should be drowned than
the handgome Lawrence. Do you love me
more for 8a''infi; him, Milly?"

"Yes, yes, 'answered Mildred; "and
so does Lilian, or she will when I tell I.er,
for you know you saved him for her, not for
me."

"Mil4W(di" »aid Oliver, laying his clammy
hand upi>iSfner hair, "when Lawrence Thorn-
ton was unking in the river, whose name
do you'ihmk he called?"

"Lilian's!" and by the dim light of the
candle burning on the stand, Oliver could see
the quivering of her lips.

"No darliug, not Lilian, but 'Milly,
dear Milly.' That was what he saicl ;
and there was a world of love in the way he
said it"

Mildred's eyes were bright as diamonds,
but Oliver's were dim with teai-s, and
he could not see how they sparkled and
Hashed, while a smile of joy broke over the
face. He only knew that both Mildretl'a
hands were laid upon his forehead as if she
would doubly bless him for the words he had
si>oken. There was silence a moment, and
then Mildred's face came so near to his that
he felt her breath and Mildred whispered ti-
midly:

" Are you certain, Oliver, that you beard

MILDRED.

aright ? Wasn't it Lilian ? Tell me again
just what he said,"

*' Milly, dear Milly," and Oliver's voice
was full of yearning tenderness, as if the
won.is welled up from the very depths of
his own heart.

She looked so bright, so beautiful, sitting
there beside him, that he would willingly
have given his life, could he once have put
hia arms around her and told her how he
loved her. But it must not be, and, with a
mighty effort, which filled the blue veins on
hia forehead and forced out the drops of
perspiration, he conquered the desire, but not
until ho closed his eyes to shut out her glow-
ing beauty.

"You are tired," she said. " I am wear-
ing you out," and, arranging his pillows
more comfortably, she made a movement to
go.

He let her think he was tired, for he would
rather she should leave him, and, with a whis-
pered "good-bye, dear Oliver," she glided
trom the room.

CHAPTER XI.

LAWBENOK DECEIVED AND VNDECEITED.

For a time after Mildred left him, Lawrence
slept on quietly, and Lilian eradufdly felt
her fears subsiding, particularly as Rachel
brought in a lamp and placed it on the man-
tel. Still she was very nervous and she sat
sobbing behind her handkerchief, until Law-
i-euce showed signs of waking ; then, remem-
bering what MiMred had said of something
in a cup, slie held it to his lips, bidding him
drink, but he would not, and, setting it
down, she went back to her crying, thinking
it mean of Mildred to kava her tlj^ere so long
• ■en she wasn't a bit acciistoipjMlf to sick
to:\b._ ^ y' ^

Su idenly she felt a hand latiV,;iipon her
cwu, and, starting up, she saw Lawrence
The. nton looking at her. Instantly all her
f'trcitude gave way, aud laying her face on the
Tiillow beside him she sobbed:

'' Oh, Lawrence, Lawrence, I'm so glad
•'Ou jiin'tdead, anil have waked up at last,
for its d'-eadful sitting here alone.'

Drawing her nearer to him tUe j'oung
intMi said :

* Poor child, have you been here long?"

"Yes, ever since the doctor left," she
ansvered. "Mildred is with Clubs. I
don't believe she'd care a bit if you should
die. '

" Mildred— Mildred," Lawrenca repeated,
as if trying to recall something in the past.
*' Tlien it ^vas j/o« who were with me in ail
that d'-e-'.dful agony, when my life came
back again. I fancied it was Mildred."

Lilian had not the courage to undeceive

him, for there was no mistaking the feeling
which prompted him to smooth her golden
curls and call her "Fairy." Still she must
say something, and so she said :

" I held the cup to your lips a little while
•go."

" I know you did," he answered. "You
are a dear girl, Lilian. Now tell me all
about it and who saved my life."

"Waked up in the very nick of time,"
muttered the Judge, who all the while had
been in the next room, and who had been
awake just long enough to hear all that
passed between Lawrence and Lilian, "Yes,
air, just in the nick of time, and now we'll
hear what soft- pate has to say ;" and mov-
ing nearer to the door he listened while Lil-
ian told Lawrence how Oliver had taken
him from the river and laid him under a
tree, where he was found by two cf the vil-
lagers, who brought him home.

"Then," said she, "they sent for the
doctor, who did all manner of cruel things
until you came to life and went to sleep. "

"And Mildred wasn't here at all, '*^ said
Lawience sadly. "Why did she stay with
Oliver? What ails him ? "

" He had the nose-bleed, I believe," an-
swered Lilian. " You know he's weak, aud
getting you out of the water made him sick,
I suppose. Mildred thinks more of Oliver
than of you, I guess."

"The deuce she does," muttered the
Judge, and he was about going in to charge
Lilian with her duplicity, when Mildred
herself appeared, and he resumed his seat
to hear what next would occnr.

"I am sorry I had to leave you," she
said, going up to Lawrence, " but poor Oli-
ver needed the care of some one besides old
Hepsy, and I dare say you have found a
competent nurse in Lilian."

" Yes, Fairy has been very kind " said
Lawrence, taking the young girl's hand, " I
should havb been sadlv oft without her.
But what of Oliver?"

Mildred did not then know how severe a
shock Oliver had received, and she replied
that, "ho was very weak, but would, she
hoped, be better soon."

•* I shall go down to-morrow and thank
him for saving my life," was Lawrence's
next remark, while Mildred asked some
trivial queston concerning himself.

•• Why in thunder don't she tell him
all about it ? " growled the Judge,
beginning ±o j^row impatient. " Why
don't aho ten hiiu how slie woiked likenu
ox, while t'other one sat ou tiie (ioor and
snivelled?" Then as she heard Mildred s.ay
that she must go and see which of the negroes
would f tay with him that night, he continu-
ed his mutteriiigs : "Mihlred's a fool—

ig the feeling
li her golden
ttill she must

a little while

ered. "You
' tell me all

ick of time,"
;he while had
vho had been
dear all that
Lilian. "Yes,
id now we'll

;" and mov-
led while Lil-
ir had taken

him under a
wo cf the vil-

sent for the
f cruel things
t to Bleep."
3 at all,' said
ihe stay wiih

believe," an-
e's weak, and
ade him sick,
ore of Oliver

nattered the

in to charge

t'hen Mildred

ned his seat

|\'e you," she
but poor OH-
le besides old
have found a

kind " said

I's hana, " I

without her.

how severe a
she replied
it would, she

and thank

Lawrence's

asked some

fcelf.

che tell him
tlie Judge,
t. " Why
ikcd like hu
iie door and

Mildred say
f tl:e negroes

he continu-
Vs a fool —

LAWRENCE DECEIVED AND UNDECEIVED.

Thornton's a fool — and that Lilian is a con-
sumniato fool ; but I'll fix 'em ;" and striding
into the room, just as Mildred waaleavingit,
he saitl, "Gi^jsy, como back. You needn't
go aft<^r a nigger. I'll stay with Lawrence
myself."

It was in vain that both Lawrence and
Mildred remonstrated against it The Judge
was ill earnest. " Unless, indeed, you want
to wat;h," and he turned to Lilian : "Yon
are such a capital nurse — not a bit afraid of
the dark, nor sick folks, you know," and he
chucked her under the clun, while she began
tu stammer out :

"Oh, I earn t ! I caru't ! it's too hard — too
hard."

" Of course, it's too hard," said Lawrence,
amazed at the Judge's proposition. " Lilian
is too delicate for that ; she ought to be in
bed this moment, poor child. She's been
sadly tried to-day," and he looked pityingly
at Lilian, who, feeling that in some way
wholly unknown to herself, she had been
terribly aggrieved, began to cry, and left the
room.

" Lo>)k out that there don't something
catch you in the hall," the Judge called after
her, shrugging his shoulders, and thinking
that not many hours would elapse ere he
pretty thoroughly undeceived Lawrence
Thornton.

But in this he began to fancy he might be
disappointed, for soon after Mildred left
t<icm, Lawrence fell away to sleep, resting so
quietly that the Judge would not awake him,
but sat listening to his loud breathings until
he himself grew drowsy. But Lawrence
disturbed him, and after a few short nods, he
straightened up, exclaiming, "the coafound-
edest snorer I ever heard. I can hear him ,
with' my deaf ear. Just listen, will you I"
and he frowned wrathfully at the curtained
bed, where lay the unconscious object of his
coiritations. "It's of no use," he said at
last, as he heard the clock strike one. " No
tise to be sitting here. Nothing short of an
earthquake could wake him, and sleep will
do him more good than that slush in the
cups. I ain't going to sit up ail night either.
'I carn't 1 I carn't ! it's too hard— too hard !'
Little fool 1" and laughing to himself as he
mimicked Lilian, he stalked ipto tlie adjoin-
ing chamber, and when at sunrise Mildred
came in she found the medicines all
untouched, and the .Judge fairly outdoing
Lawrence in the quantity and quality of his
snol-es I

But tho Judge was right in one conchision
— sleep did Lawrence more good tlian me U-
clne could possibly have done, and he a\vo\e
at last greatly refresh-id. Siiiilinji pleiisaiitly
mpoQ Mildred, whonri 'le found sittiii!:; by him,
M uked her to open the shutters, so he

could inhale the morning air, and see the sun
shine on the eastern hills.

" My visit has had a sad commencement,"
he said, as she complied with his request,
and went back to his side ; " and lest it
sliould grow worse, I shall return home in a
day or so. Do you think Lilian will be ready
to accompany me ?"

Inst{>'.itly the tears came to Mildred's eyes,
but Lawrence thought they Were induced by
a dread of losins Ldliau, and he hastened to
say, ''She need not go, of course, unless she
chooses,"

"But you— why need you go ?" asked Mil-
dred. "I WHS anticipating so much pleasure
from your visit, and that first night you
came I was so rude and foolish. You must
Uiiiik me» strange girl, Mr. Thornton."

Whether he thought her strange or not,
he thought her very beautiful, sitting there
before him in her white morning wrapper,
with her cheeks fresh as roses and her brown
haif parted smoothly back from her open
brow.

" It was wrong in Lilian to betray yoitr
oontidence," he replied; "but she did it
thoughtlessly, and has apologized for it, I
presume; aha prontiscd me she would."

Miidred did not tell him that she hadn't
and he continued, " It is very natural that a
girl like you should have hosts of admirera,
and quite as natural th^t yon should give to
bosis one of them the preference. I only
hope he is worthy of you, Milly."

dildred felt that she could not re^ttrain
Jier tears much longer, and she was »;lad when
Lilian at last came in, thus affor.ting her a
good excuse for 8*;eaMng away. She did not
hear what passed between the two, butwhen
Lilian came down to breakfast pti6 said,
" Lawrence had suggested -heir going home,"
and as nothing could pleas a her more, they
would start the next day, if he were able.

" I'll liet he won't go before he gets a i>iece
of my mind," thought the judge, as he
watched for a favourable opportunity, but
Iiilian wj»s always in the M-ay,
long after dinner he went
room, he found that he had
visit Oliver, who was still confined to his bed
and seemed to be utterly exhausted.

Lawrence had net expected to* Hnd him so
pale and sick, and at first he could only
press his bancs in silence.

" It wn^ very kind in you Clubs,'' he said
at last, " to save my life at the 1-isk of your
own."

"You are mistaken," returned
" it was for Mildred I risked my
more than for you."

" For Mildred, Clubs— for Mildred 1" and

all over Lawrence Thornton's handsome face
there broke a look of perplexity and delight

and when
to Lawrence'*
gone down to

Oliver ;
life far

r I

rIO

I ■/■ r i I

MILDRED.

for Oliver's words implied a something to
believe which would be happiness indeed.

"I can't tell you now, said Olivcf, "I
am too faint and weak. Come to me before
you go, and I will explain ; but lirst, Law-
rence Tliornton, answer me truly, as you
hope for heareii, do you love Mildred
llowel! ?"

"Love Mildred Howell — love Mil-
drod HowelU" Lawrence repeated, in
amazement "Yes, Clubs, as I hope
for heaven, I love her better than my life,
hut she isn't for mo, ishc loves somebody
else," and he hurried down the stairs, nfever
dreaming that the other was himself, for had
it ))ecn, she would not have deserted him
the previous day, when he was so near to
death. *'No, Oliver is deoeived," and he
walked slowly back to Beechwood, thinMng
how bright the future would look tdtiim
could he but possess sweet Mildred How-
ell's love. "I never receive any help from
Lilian," ..he uuconspiously said aloud.
" She lies like a wei;;ht upon my faculties,
while Mildred has tike most charming Way
of rubbing np one's' ide.as. Mildred is
splendid," and hip toot touched the lower
step of the bax!k piazza jnst as the Judge'tt
voice chimed in :

"I'm glad you think lo. That's -what
I've been trying to »et At this wljole day,
so sit d<)>Vn here, li.Ttnton, and w«'Il have
a confidential chat. , The girls are oflf. riding,
and there's no. one to disturb usi"

Lawrence took the offered seat, and the
Judge continued :

" I don't know how to commence it, see-
ing there's no head nor tail, and I shall
make an awful bungle, I presume, but what
I \irant to say is this : You've got the wool
pulled over your eyes good. I ain't blind,
nor deaf either, if one of my ears is shut up
tight as a drum. I heard her soft-soaping
you last night, making
did anything but her.

ho continued, as he saw the my tified ex-
pression on Lawrence's i".' -o, •^i jw, hon-
est, didn't she make you believe that she
did about the 'vhole ; that is, did what wo-
men would naturally do in such a case T "

Lawrence had received some such impres-
sion and as he had no reason for thinking
Lilian would purposely deceive him, he
.>-used up at once in her defence.

"Everybody was kinl. I presume, he
said, "but I must sty tjiat for a little, ner-
vous creature as she ij, J =V"n acted nobly,
standing fearlessly by until the worst was
over, and then, when all the rest were cone,
whj was it sat watching me, but Lilian?"

" Lilian ! the devil I There, I have
sworn, and I feel the better for it," 8ai<i Lhe
Judge, growing red in the face, and kickir.g

'••»\* «awa av/i v-K9iJC»L7illu

g yon think nobody
Its Lilian, I mean,"

over one of Mildred's house plants with his
heavv boot. "Thornton, you are a fool."

" Very likely," answered Lawrence y
*' but I am certainly willing to be enlight-
ened, and as you seem ca2>ablo of doing it,
prtay continue. "

" ^Jever granted a rpquest more willingly
in my life," returned the Judge. "Thorn-
ton, you certainly have some sense, or your
father would never have married ray dangh-
ter."

Lawrence conld not tell well what that
had to do vith his having sense, but he was
too anxious to interrupt the Judge, who
continued : " You see, when Clubs crawl-
ed back to his door and told
how you were dead, and when
Hopsy fecroamed for help like a panther as
she is, Mildred was the first to hear it, and
she went tearing down the hill, while I
went wheezing after, with Lilian following
like a snail. I was standing by when Clubs
told Miily you were dead, and then, Thorn-
ton, then there was a look on her face which
niiule my very toes tingle, old as I am.
Somehow the girl has< got an idea that you
thiuk Lilian a little angel, and turning to
her, she said, 'Lilian, Lawrence is dead.
Let «s gjoto him together. He ia mine now
as much as yours," but do you thuik, boy,
that she went ?"

" Yes, yes, I don't know. Go on," gasped
Lawrence, whose face was white as ashes.

"Well, sir, she dldnt, but shrank back
in the corner, and snivell'^d out, ' I carn't, I
:arnt. I'm afruid of dead folks. I'd rather
stay here.' 1 suppose I said some savage
things beforfe I started after Milly, who was
Hying over the fields just as you have seen
your hat fly in a strong March wind. When
I got to the tree I found her with her arms
around your neck, and as hard a wretch aa
I am, I shed tears to see again on her face
that look, as if her heart were brokeii.
When we reached homo with you, we foun.l
Lilian crying in her room, and she never so
much as lifted her finger, while Mildicd
stood bravely by, and once, Thornton, she
put her lips to yours and blew her breath
mto your lungs, until her cheo';^^ Stuck out
like two globe lamps. I thiriu that did the
business, for you soon showed signs of life,
and then Mildr.-^d ci'ied out for joy, while
Lilian, who heard her, fancied you weie
dead, and wanted 8(>mebody to stay with
her, because she Avas afraid of ghost*. ^Tust
as though you wouLln't have enough lo do
seeing what kind of a place j-ou'd go into,
without appearing to her? Whf n the danger
was all over, and you v/ere asleep, Mildred,
of course, wanted to go to Clubs, so she
asked Lilian to stay with you, but she hkd
to bring her in by force, for Lilian said she

LAWnEXCE DECEIVED AND UNDECEIVED.

lants with his
are a fool."
I Lawrence ;
D be enlight-
of doing it,

nore willingly
go. "Tliorn-
Bcnse, or your
od my datigh-

i^ell what that

36, but he wai

e Jnrlge, who

Clubs cravvl-

and toM

and when

a panther as

hear it, and
hill, while I

liau following
r)y when Clubs

1 then. Thorn-
her face which
old as I am.
idea that you
md turning to
Tence is dead.
:e is mine now
ou think, boy,

nio on," gasped
ite as ashes.

t shrank back
it, ' I carn't, 1
iS, I'd rather
d some fcavago
illy, who was
you have seen
wind. When
with her arms
rd a wretch as
ain on her face
were brol>eti,
you, we found
nlie never s(»
vl)ile Mildred
Thornton, she
ew her breath
';^^ Stuclsi out
u Uiat did the
signs of life,
or joy, while
cied you were
to stay with
ghosts, j^ust
enough ip do
-you'd go into,
tim the danger
deep, Mildred,
Clubs, 80 she
, but shehted
Lilian said the

was afraid of tho dark. I was in the next
room and heard tho whole performance. I
heard you, too, make a fool of yourself, when
you woke up and Lilian gave you her version
of the story. Of course, I was considerably
riled up, for Mildred is the very apple of my
eye. Lawrence^ do you love Lilian Veille?"

Scarcely an hour before, Oliver had said to
J^awrence, " jJ you love Mildred Howell ?"
and nn\" the Judge asked, "Do yon love
Lilian Voillc ?" To the first Lawrence had
answered "'Yeg. " Ho could answer the
same to tho last, for he did lovo Lilian,
though not as ho loved Mildred, and so he
said yes, asking in a faltering voice:

"What he was expected to infer from all
he had heard ?"

"Lifer?" repeated tho Judge. "Good
thunder, you ain't to infer anything ! You
are to take ifc for gospel tnith. Mildred dots
love ?r(mebody, as that blabl)ing Lilian said
she did, and the two firstietters of his name
are i^awreu'io Thornton. But what the
misclilef, boy 5 are you sorry t6 know that
the queen of all tho girls that ever was
born, or ever will be, is in love with you ?"
he asked, as Lawrence sprang to his feet,
and walked rapidly up and down the long
piazza.

'•' Sorry— no ; but glad ; so glad ; and may
I talk with licr to-night?" answered Law-
rence, forgottiiig his father's wrath, 'wliich
was sure to fail upon liim— forgetting Lilian
— forgetting evorything save the fact that
Mildred Howoll loved him. ' _■ '. '

" Sit down here, boy," returncct th6 Jixage.
*' I have ..lore tf) say before I answer that
question. You li.ive seen a guarded, crabbed
old oak, haven't you, with a green, beautiful
vine creeping over and avouud it, putting out
a broad leaf here, sending forth a tendril
there, and covering up the deformity be-
neath, until people spy of that tree, "It's
rot BO ugly after all?' But Lfjar the vine
away, anrl the oak is uglier than ever. Well,
that sour, crabbed tree is me • aud that beau-
tiful vine, bearing the broad leaves and the
luxurious fruit, is Mildred, who has crept
around and over, and into my Viry being,
until there is not a throb of uiy heart Which
does not bear with it a thought of her. She's
all the old man has to love. The other
Mildred is dead long years ago. while
T'iohard, Heaven only knows wh'-.e my boy
Kicliard is," and leaning on hii 2;old-headed
cTiie. the Judge seemed to be wandering
away back in the past, while Lawrence, who
thought the comparison between the oak
and the vine very line, very appropriate,
nn>l all that, but couldn't, for the life of
him, .'=ee what it had to do with hissjit-akitig
to Mildred that night, viiituitJ k. liii to
Bay :

"And I may telL Mildred of my love-
may 1 not?"

Then the Judge roused up an answered,
" Only on condition that you both stay here
with me. The oak "Hlithers when the vine is
torn away, and I, too, should die if I knew
Milly had left me forever. Man alive, you
can't begin to guess how I love the vixen,
nor how the sound of her voice makes the
little laughing ripples break all over my old
heart. "There comes the gipsy now," and
the, little laughing ripples, as he called them,
broke all over his face, as he saw Mildred
galloping to the door, her starry eyes looking
archly out from beneath her riding hat,
and her lips wreathed with smiles as she
kissed her hand to the Jndge. "Yes, boy,
botheration, ye-i," whispered the latter, as
Lawrence pulled his sleeve for an answer to
his question, ere hastening to help the ladies
alight. "Talk to her all night if you want
to, I'll do my best to keep back 'softening
of the brain,' " and he nodded toward Lilian,
v/ho was indulging herself in little bits of
feminine screams as her horse showed signs of
being frightened at a dog lying behind aoir**
bushes.

But the Judge had promised more ^..an ha
was capable of perfoimiug. All that even-
ing he manoeuvred most skilfully to scnarata
Lilian from Mildred, but the thing could not
be done, for just so sure as he asked the
former to go with him upon tho piazza and
tell him the names of the stars, just so sure
,she answered that " she didn't know as stars
had names," suggesting the while that he take
Mildred, who knew everything, and when
at last he told her, jokingly as it were,
that " it was time children and fools were in
bed," she answered wi<'h more thau her
usual quickness :
""■ " I would advise you to go then." • < •

"Sharper than I s'posed," he thought,
and turning to Lawrence, he whispered :
"No use— no use. She sticks like shoe-
maker's wax, but I'll tell what, when she is
getting ready to go to-morrow I'll call Milly
down, on the pretence of seeing her for
something, and then you'll have a chance,'*
and with this Lawrence was fain to be satis-
fied.

He did not need to go to Oliver, for an
explanation of his words — ho knew now
wliat they meant — knew that tne beautiful
Mildred did care for him, and when he at
last laid his head upon his pillow, he could
see in the future no cloud to darken his
pathway, unless it were his fathers anger,
and even that did not seem very formid-
able.

" He will change his mind when he sees
how determined I am," he thought. " Mil-
dred won the crusty Judge's heart— she will

i h

IJ t.ti

3 I.

t i

. 3 !:
• if

• 1

h ii

I '

"^ V i

MILWJED.

win his as well. Lilian will shed some tears,
I supuosR, and (Jeraldine will scold, but
after* kaowing liow Lilian deceived ine, I
could 'not marry her, even were there no
Mildred ' with the starry eyes and nut-
brown hair.'"

He knew that people had applied these
terras to his young step-mother, and it was
thus that he loved to think of Mildred,
whose eyes were as bright as stars and whose
hair waa a rich nut-brown. He did not care
who her parents were, he said, though his
mind upon that point was pretty well estab-
lished, but should he be mistaken, it was all
the same. Mildred, as his wife and the
daughter of J udga Howell, would be above
all reproach, and thus, building pleasant
castles of the future, he fell asleep.

CHAPTER XII.

THE PROPOSAL,

"Mi33 Veille," said the Jndse at the break-
fast-table next morning, "the carriage will
be round in jusit an hour, and as, if you are
at all like Milly, you have a thousand and
one traps to pick up, you'd better be about
it"

"Milly is going to help me. I never
could do it alone, returned Lilian, sipping
her coffee very leisurely and lingering in the
dining-room to talk with Lawrence, even
after breakfast was over.

Mildred, however had gone upstairs, and
thither Judge Howell followed, tinding her,
as he expected, folding up Lilian's clothes,
and placing them in her trunk.

" That girl is too lazy to breathe," he
said. " Why don't she come and help you,
"when I've a particular reason for wishmg you
to hurry," and, by way of accelerating
matters, he :rumpied in a heap two of Lilian's
muslin dresses, and ere Mildred could atop
him, had jammed them into a band box, con-
taining the mite of a thiug which Lilian call-
ed a bonnet.

A lace bertha next came under consider-
ation, but Mildred snatched it from him just
as he was tucking it away with a pair of
Inilia rubbers.

"You ruin the things!" she cried. "What's
the matter ?"

" I'll tell you, gipsy," he answered, in a
whisper, " I want to see you alone a few
minutes before tliey go off. I tried last night
till I sweat, but had to give it up."

"We are alone now," said Mildred, while
the Judge replied:

"Hang it all, 'taint r/te that wants to see
you. Don't you understand ?"

Mildred confessed her ignorance, and he
was about to explain, when Lilian came up
iwith a letter juat received from her sister.

" The Lord help me," groaned the Judce,
while Lilian, thinking he spoke to her, said:

"What, sir?"

" I was swearing to myself," he replied,
and adding in an aside to MiMred: " Come
down as quick as you can," he left the room.

Scarcely had he gone when Lilian began:

" Guess, Milly, what Geraldine has writ-
ten. She says Lawrence was intending to
propose to me while he was here, and
she thinks I'd better manage— dear me,
what was it she said," and opening the letter
she read : " ]f he has not already offered
himself, and a favourable opportunity should
occur, you had better adroitly lead the con-
tersatiou in that direction. A great deal can
sometimes be accomplished by a little skilful
manasement."

" 1 he>-e, that's what she wrote, and now,
what does she mean for me to do ? Why,
Mildred, you are putting my combs
and brushes in my jewel-box I What aila
you ?"

" So I am," returned Mildred. " I am
hardly myself thii morning."

" It's because I'm going away, I suppose ;
but say, how can I adroitly lead the conver-
sation in that direction ?"

"I'm sure I don't know." answered Mil*
dred, but Lilian persisted that she did, and
at last, in sheer despair, Mildred said :
"You might ask him if he ever intended to
be married."

" Well then, what?" said Lilian.

" Mercy, I don't know," returned Mildred.
" It would depend altogether upon his an-
swer. Perhaps he'll say he does— perhaps
he'U say ho don't."

This was enough to mystify Lilian com-
pletely ; and, with a most doleful expression
she began to change her dress, saying the
while :

"I sec you won't help me out ; but I don't
care. He most offered himself that night I
sat with him when you were down with
Clubs ;" and she repeated, in an exaggerated
form, several things which he had said to
her, while all the while poor Mildred's tears
rere dropping into the trunk which she was
packing.

Ever since Oliver had told her Oi Law-
rence's drc . ning crv there had been a warm,
sunny spot in her heart, but Lilian's words
had chilled it, and to herself she whispered
sadly :

" Oliver did not hear aright It was 'Lily i
dear Lily !' ho said."

"Mildred I" screamed the Judge from the
lower hall, "come down here, (juick ; I want
you for as much as fifteen minutes ; and you,
Miss Lilian, if that pac' iug isn't done,
hurry up, or Thornton wiii go off without
you-" . *

iA.

THE PROPOSAL

ned the Judffe,
;e to her, Mid:

he Teplied,
Mred: "Come
i left the room.
Lilian began:
line has writ-
IS intending to
as here, and
ane— dear me,
ining the letter
kl ready offered
>rtuuity should
y lead the con*
great deal can
a little skilful

rote, and now,
to do? Why,
my combs
I I What aiit

dred.

«•

»y, I suppose ;
ad the couver*

answered Mil*
t she did, and
Wild red said :
er intended to

limed Mildred.
r upon his an>
does— perhaps

ry Liliari com*
sful expression
iss, saying the

it ; but I don't
[f that night I
re down with
m exaggierated
e had said to
lildred*s tears
vhich she was

her oi Law*
i been a warm,
Lilian's words
she whispered

It was 'Lily I

udge from the
i|uick ; I want
ites ; and you,
5 isn't done,
;o oS without

«'I think it's ri^ht hateful in him." mut-
tered Lilian, adding, in a coaxing tone, as
Mildi«d was leaving the toom, "won't you
kind of be thinking how I can lead the conver*
tuliou in that diiectioo. for 1 shall have a
splendid chance in the cars, and you can
whisper it to me before 1 go."

*'l wonder what he wants of her f aha
continued to herself as MiUlietl tan down
atairs. " I mean to hurry and see,'* and so
ahe quickened her moventeuts that scarce*
ly ten minutes had elapsed cro her trunk
was ready, and abo had started in quest of
Mildred.

" Go back, yoo filigree. Toa ain't
wanted there;" and the Judge, who kept

guard in the hall below, interposed
is cano between her and the door of
tho drawing<room. where Lawrence and
Mildred sat together, his arm round her
waiAt, her hand in his own. and her eyen
downcast, but shinia^; like atari beneath
their long-fringe<l laihes.

In answer to her qitcstioo, " What do you
want of mo?" tho Judge had pointed to the
drawing-room, and said

" The one who wants you is in there,"

"Who can it be?" she though, tripping
through the hall, and croesiog the threshold
of tlio door, where she stopped suddenly,
whilu uu uudetioable sensation swept over
her, for at thu farthest extremity of the
room, and directly beneath the portrait of
Kichard Uowcli, Lawrence stood waiting for
her.

"Did you wish to speak with me, Mr.
Thornton? Do you want me?" she asked,
when a little recoreriwl from her astonish'
ment.

" Ves, Mdly, yes, Lawrcocn aaswered
impetuously, "I want you for life — want
you forever," and advaociag toward her. he
wound his arm about her and led her back
to the sofa, where she sank down utterly be-
wildered, and feeling as if sha were laoouring
under some hallucination.

Could it be herself he wanted ? Wasn't
it Lilian, ^ ,o was even now puzzling her
brain how " to lead the conversation " so as
to produce a scene similar to this, save that
she and not Mildred would be one of the
actors?

** Dear Mildred," tho voice at her side
began, and then she knew it was not Lilian
be meant.

She could not mistake her own name, and
ahe listened breathlesaly while he told her of
the love conceived more than two years be-
fore, when she was a merry, hoydenish
school-girl of lifceen, and had spent a few
days at his father's house.

" It has always been my fathcr'd wish,"
be said, " that 1 muat murry Lilian, aud

nntil quite recently 1 have fostered the belief
that I should some time do so, even though
I knew 1 could be happier with you ; but,
Milly— Lilian can never be my wife."

"Oh, Lawrence, Lawrence, Lawrence I*
and spite of the Judge's cane— spite of the
Judges boot— spite of the Judge's burly
figure, planted in the doorway to impede
her ingress, Lilian Veille rU3hcd headlong
into the middle of the loom, where she stood
a moment, wringin;; her hands in mute de*
spair, and then fell or rather crouched upon
the door, etill crying* "Oh, Lawrence, Law*
fence "

Wholly blinded by her sister, she bad aa
much expected to bo tho future wife of Law*
reocs Thornton as to see the next day's nun,
acd had never thought it possible for him to
choose another, so when Rhc saw his position
with Mildred and heard the words- "Lilian
can never l)o my wife,' the fehock was over*
whelming, aud rhe sank upon tho carpet,
helpless, sick, and fainting.

"Now, Ml be hanged," said the Judge,
"if this ain't a little the greatest perform*
ance; but go right on. boy, have your say nut.
ril tend to her,*' and bursting into the
library, ho caught np in bis tiepidation the
iuk'bottle instead of tho camphor. "A lit*
tlo thrown in her face, will fetch her to.
Camphor is good for the hysterics.' ho said,
and hurrying back he would undoubtedly
have deluged poor Lilian Avilh ink, if Mil-
dred had not pushed him away just as the
hrst drop had fallen on her dress.

Whether LaAvrenco would have " had his
say out" or not, was not proved, for MihUed
sprang to Lilian's side, and lifting her Lead
upon her lap asked if she were sick.

"No, no,'' moane<l Lilian, covering her
face with her bands and crying a low. plain-
tive cry, which fell on Mildred's heart like a
reproachful sound, "no, not sick, but I wish
that I were dead, Oh, Mildred, how could
you serve me so, when you knew that he
was mine? Ain't you, Lawieuce? Oh,
Lawrence I" and burying her face in Mil*
dred's lap, she sobbed pa^fiionntely.

" Lilian,' said Lawrence, drawing near to
her, •' Lilian, 1 have never intended to de-
ceive you ; I am not responsible for what
my father and Geraldinc have said "

".Stop, I won't hear," cried Lilian, put-
ting her fingers to her ears. "Mildred coax-
ed you, I know she did, and that hateful old
man, too. Let's go home, whei* Oeialdine
is. You always loved me there.

She did not seem to blame him in the
least ; on the contrary, she charged all to
Mildred, who could only answer with her
tears, for the whole had been so sudden — so
like a dream to herself.

" Carriage at the gate— is the young lady'

I li

\i —

I nf

I ^i

MILDRED.

trunk ready ?" asked Finn in tho hall, and
consulting his watuh Lawrence *a\v that if
thoy went that day they had no time t6
lose.

" Hadn't wo better stay till to-morrow ?"
he suggested, unwilling to leavo until Mil-
dred had told him yes.

" No, no," Lilian fairly screamed. "We
mustn't stay another minute ;" and grasping
hia arm, she led him into the hall, while the
Judge, with the ink-bottle still in his hand,
slyly whispered :

'•' You can write, boy — you can write. ^'

Yes, he could write, and comforted by
this thought, Lawrence raised Mildred's
hand to his lips, while Lilian's blue eye*
flashed with far more spirit than waa ever
Been in them before. She Would not say
good-bye, and she walked stiifly doWn to the
carriage, holding fast to LaWrence, lest by
some means he should be spirited away.

It M'as a moat dismally silont ride from
Beeohwood to the depot, for Lilian persisted
in crying behind her veil, and as Lawrence
knew of no consolation to offer, he wisely re-
frained from speaking, but employed himself
the while in thinkinc^ how the little red spots
came out all over Mildred's face and neck
when she sat upon the sofa, and he called
her :

'• Dear Mildred."

When they entered tho cars where
Lilian had hoped for a splendid
time, provided Milly told her "how
to lead this conversation," the little
lady was still crying and continued so until
Boston was in siglit. Then, indeed, she
cheered up, thinking to herself how "she'd
tell Geraldiue and have her see to it."

« • • ' • •

"Why Lawrenoo— Lilian— who expected
you today ? " Geraldine Veille exclaimed,
when about four o'clock she met them in
in the hall.

In as few words as possible Lawrence ex-
plained to her that he had been neaily
drowned, and as he did not feel much liko
visiting after that, he had come home and
brounlit Lilian with him.

" But what ails her* Sho has not been
drowned too," said Geraldine, alarmed at
her sister's wliite face and sW'olleu eyes,

Thinking that Lilian miglit explain, Law-
rence hastened off leaving them alone.

"Oh, sister,'' cried Lilian when he was
gone. "Opme upstairs to our room, where
I oar tell you all about it and how unhappy
I an.. '

In a moment they entered their chamber,
and throwing her bonnet and shawl on the
lioor, Lilian threw herself into the middle
of the bed, and half smothering herself with
the pillows, began lier story, to which Oor-

aldiive listened with flashing eyes and burn-
ing cheeks.

"Tho wretoh I " she exclaimed, wheu Lil-
ian had finished. Of cour.se sho euticud
him. It's like her ; but don't distress your*
self, Lily dear. I can manage it, I think."

"It don't need any managing," sobbed
Lilian, " now that we've got home. He al-
V lys loves me best hei*e, and he 11 forget
that hateful Mildred. "

This was Lilian's conclusion, Geraldine's
was different Much as sho hated Mildred
Howell, she knew that having loved her
once, Lawrence would not easily cease to
love her,' let him Tbe where ht wmild, ami
thoiigh from Lilian's story she inferred that
he had not yet fully committed himself, she
knew he would do so, and by letter, too, un-
less she devisdd some meaus of preventing
it. Still she would not, for the world, that
Lawrence should suspect her design ii, aud
when at dinner she mot him at the table,
her smiling face told no talc of the
etoi'm within. Mr. Thornton was absent,
and for that she was glad, as it gave her
greater freedom of aotion.

"Where's Lily ?" Lawrence asked, a lit
tie anxious to hear what sho had to say

With a merry laugh, Geraldine replied r i

" Poor little chicken, she caut bear her
grief at all, and it almost killed her to lind
that you preferred another to herself. But
she'll get over it, I daresay. Mildred is a
beautiful giil ; and though I always hoped,
and indeed expected, that you would marry
Lilian, you aro, of course, at liberty to choose
for yourself ; and I am glad you have made
a good choice. When is the happy day ? "

Lawrence wa.s conqjletely duped, for,
man like, he did not see how bitterly
one woman could hate another, evea
while seeming to liko her, and hid heart
warmed toward Geraldiue for talking of thu
matter so coolly.

" I do not know that tho happy day will
bo at all," he replied; "for Lily came upon
us before I had half finished. Sho may re-
fuse mo yet."

"It's hardly probable," answered Gerald*
ine. helpiwg him to another cup of tea.
"When Miss Howell was last here I
suspected her of being in love with some
one, and foolishly fancied it might be young
Hudson, who called on her so often. But
1 .see my mistake. Yon did not finish your
proposal, yon say. Youll write to her to-
night, of course, and have tho matter de-
cided,"

"That is my intention," returned Law-
rence, beginning to foci a little uneasy at
liaving suffered Geraldine to draw so much
from him.

Still he did not suspect her real design.

THE PROFOSAU

yc3 and burn-
ed, when Lil-
sho euticiid
distress your*
e it, I think."
giug," sobbed
louie. He al-
1 he'll foigeb

. GeiAldine's
lated Mildred
ina loved her
isily cease to
hfc would, and
s inferred that
id himself, sho
ietter, too, ua«

of prevail tiu^
he world, that
r designs, aud
ni at tho table,
I talc of tho
tL was absent,

as it gave her

le asked, a lit
lad to say
iiuo replied r
caut bear her
led her to find
t herself. But
Mildred is a
always hoped,
u would marry
bcrty to choose
you have made

happy day?"
duped, for,

how bitterly
another, evea

aud hid heark

talking ot thu

lappy day will
jily came upon
Sho may re*

jwered Gerald*
er cup o( tea.
» last here i
ovc with some
night be youn>;
so often. 6u(t
lot finish your
rttc to her to*
tho matter cle*

returned Law-
little uneasy at
draw so much

icr real dc-siRU,

thon^h lie rlid wonder at her being so very
r-trdial wlicn sho had always looked upon him
as her brotlicr-in-law elect. "As long as
there is no lielp for it she means to make the
bi-st of it, I presume," he thought, and wish-
ini; she mii^lit transfer some of her sense to
"Lilian, he went to his room to write the
letter, which would tell Mildred Howell
that the words he said to her that morning
nvere in earnest.

Could (ieraldine have secured the letter
land destroyed it, she would nnhesitatingly
«h;we done so, but Lawrence did not leave his
room until it was completed, and when last
hft went out, he carried it to the ofHce, and
thus placed it beyond her reach. But the
wily woman had another plan, and going to
Lilian, who had really made herself sick with
■weeping, she casually inquired what time
Judge Howell usually received his Boston
letters.

" At nisht, if ho sends to the office," said
•IjihaH, ** and in the morning if he don't."

" He tuill send to-morrow ni^ht," thought
Goraldine, for madtmoiselle will be expecting
a letter, aud as she just then heard Mr.
Thornton entering his room, she stepped
auross the hall and knocked cautiously at the
door.

Mr. Thornton was not in a very amicable
mood that uight. Business was dull — money
scarce — debts were constantly coming in
with no means of cancelling them, and in the
dreaded future he fancied he saw the word
■•Insolvent," coupled with his own name.
From this there was a way of escape. Lilian
Veille had money, and if she were Lawrence's
v/ife, Lawrence as his junior partner could
use the money for the benefit of the firm.
This was a strong reason why he was so
aaxious for a speedy marriage between the
two, and was also one cause of his professed
aversion to Mildred Howell. Having never
seen Judge Howell and Mildred together, he
did not know how strong was the love the
old man bore the child of his adoption, and
he did not believe he would be foolish enough
to give her much of his hoarded wealth.
Thornton must marry Lilian, and that soon,
he was thinking to himself as ho entered his
room, ior his son's marriage was the burden
of his thoughts, and having just heard of his
return, he Was wondering whether he had
en<fat,'ed himself to Lilian, or fooled with
Mildred as he told him not to do, when
Geraldine came to the door. Thinking it
was Lawrence who knocked, he bade him
come in at once, but a frown flitted over his
face when he saw that it Mas his neice.

" I suppo.sod you were Lawrence," he said.
" T hexrd he was at home. What brought

llll .iU :JJOU? " ■ •

In a few words Geraldine told of the acci"
dent, and then, when the father's feeling of
alarm had subsided, Mr. Thornton asked •

" Did he come to an understauding with
Lilian?"

" Yes, I think she understands him per-
fectly," was Geraldine's reply, at which Mr.
Thornton caught quickly.

"They are engnged then ? I am very glad,"
aud the word " Insolvent" passed from his
mental horizon, leaving there instead bonds
and mortgages, bank stocks, city heuses.
Western lands and ready money at his com*
mand.

But the golden vision faded quickly when
Geraldine repeated to him what she knew ol
Lawrence and Mildred Howell.

"Not engaged to her? Oh, Heavens !" and
Mr. Thornton's face grew dark with passion;
" I won't have it so. I'll break it up. I'll
nip it in the bud," and he strode across the
floor, foaming with fury and uttering bitter
invectives against the innocent cause of bis
wrath.

" Sit down, Uncle Robert," said Geraldine,
when his wrath was Gomewhat expended.
"The case isn't as hopeless as you imagine.
A little skill on my part, and a little firmness
on yours, is all that is necessary. Lilian
surprised them before Lawrence had asked
the question itself, but he has written to-
night and the letter is in the ofiBce. Mil Ired
will receive it, of course— there's no helping
that ; but we can, I think, prevent her an*
swerins' yes."

"How— how?" Mr. Tliornton eagerly
demanded, and Geraldine replied : " You
know that if they are once engaged no power
on earth can separate them, for Lawrence
has a strong will of his own, and what we
have to do is to keep them from being en*

gaged."

" No necessity for repeating that agam,"
growled Mr. Thornton. " Tell me at once
what to do."

" Simply this," answered Geraldine: "Do
not awake Lawrence's suspicions, though if,
when you meet him to-night, he gives you his
confidence, you can seem to be auqry at first,
but gradually grow calm, aud tell him that
what is done cau't be helped."

"Well, then, what?" interrupted Mt
Thornton, impatient to hear the i-est.

"Mildred will receive his letter to-morrow
night," said Geraldine, " and as it is Satur-
day, sho cannot answer until Monday, of
course. In the meantime, you must go to
see her "

" Me ! " exclaimed Mr. Thornton. " I go
to Beechwood to rouse up that old lion ! It^s
as much as my life is worth. You don't
know him, Geraldine. He has the most

WILDUED.

1 i

It 1^1

violent temper, and 1 do not wish to make
him angry with me just at present."

" Perhaps you won't see him," returned
GeraUUue. " Lihan says he frequently takes
a ride on horseback about sunset, as h«
thinks it keeps oIT the apoplexy, and l»« may
be gone. At aU events, you can ask to see
Miss Howell alone. You must tell Law-
rence you are going to Albany, and that will
account for your taking the early train.
You will thus reach Maytield at th« same
time with the letter, but can stop at the
hotel until it has been received and read. "

'* I begin to get your meaning,'' said Mr.
Thornton, brightening up. "Vou wish me
to see her before she has bad time to answer
it, and to give her some very wei;{htv reason
why she should refuse my son. I can do
that, too. But will she listen? She ia aa
tiery as a pepper-pod herself."

" Perhaps not at first, but I think her hi^h
temper and foolish pride will materiaUy aid
you, particularly when you touch upon her
parentage, and hint that you will be ashamed
of her— besides, you are to take from me a
letter in which I shalt appeal to her
sympathy for Lilian, and that will go a great
ways with her, for I do believe she loves
Lilian."

A while longer they talked tocethor, and
Geraldiue had thoroughly succeeded in mak-
ing Mr. Thornton nuderstaud Avhat he was
to do, when Lawrence himself came to the
door, knocking for admittance. He seemed
a little surprised at finding Geraldine there,
but her well-timed remark to his father,
•• So you thiuk I'd better try Bridget a week
or two longer?'' convinced him that there
was soir.e trouble with the servants, a thing
not of rare occurrence in their household.

Mr. Thoruton locked up quickly, not
quite comprehending her, but she was gone
ere he had time to ask her what she meant,
and he was alone with his son. Lawrence
had comu to tell his father everything, but
his father did not wish to be told. He was
not such an adept in cunning as Geraldine,
and he feared lest he might betray himself
either by word or manner, so he talked of
indifTercnt subjects, asking liawrenoe about
the accident — and Beechwood, and about
Judge Howell, and finally coming to busi-
ness, where he managed to drag in rather
bunglingly, that he was going to Albany
in the morning, and should not return till
Monday.

*' I can tell him then," thought Lawrence,
"and if she should refuse me, it would be as
well for him not to know it."

Thus decidintr, he bade hia father good-
night, and when next morning at a rather
late hour he came down to breakfast, he
was told by the smiling Geraldine that

" Uncle l^obert had started ou Ibc mail train
for Albany."

CHAPTEU XIIL

THE AJiiWKn.

i or a lonjt time after the departnre of
Lawrence and Lilian, Mildred sat in a kind
of inaMi wondering whether the events of
the last hour were real or whether they were
all a dream, and that Lawrence Thornton
had not called her "dear Mildred," as she
thought he did. The Judge, who might have
enlightened her, had been suddenly calhd
away just at the carriage rolled., down the
avenue, and feeling a restless desire to talk
to Bomebody, she at last ran off to Oliver.
He would know whether Lawrence was m
earnest, and be would be almost aa happy aa
she wftSk

" Dear Oliver," she whispered softly as
she tripped down the Ck)ld Spring path,
"how much he loses by not knowing what it
is to love the way I do.*'

Deluded Milly ! How little she dreamed
of the wild, absorbing love which burned in
Oliver Hawkins' heart, and burned there the
more fiercely that he must not let it be
known. It was in vain he tried to quench it
with his tears ; thev were like oil poured up-
on the flame, and onen in the midnight hour,
when there was no one to hear, he cried in
bitterness of spirit : "Will the Good Father
forgive me if it is a sin to love her, for I
cannot, cannot help it."

He was in bed this morning, but he wel-
comed Mildred ^vith his accustomed smile ;
telling her how glad he was to see her, and
how much sunshine aha brought into his
lisk^room.

" The world would be very dark to me
without you, Milly," he said, and bis long,
white fingers moved slowly over her shining
hair.

It vras a habit he had of caressing her hair,
and Mildred, who expected it, bent her
beautiful head to the familiar tou<;h.

" Why did Lawrence go without coming
to see me?" he asked, and at the question
Mildred's secret burst out. She could not
keep it any longer, and with her usual im-
petuosity she told him all, and asked, if "as
true as ho lived, he believed Lawrence would
have offered himself to her if Lilian hadn't
surprised them ?"

"I'm sure of il;," he said^ adding, as he
saw the sparkle in her eyes : "Does it make
my little Milly very happy to know that
Lawrence Thoruton really loves her ?"

" Ye«, Oliver. It makes me happier than
I ever was before in my life. 1 wish you
could, for just one minute, know the feeling
of loving some one as I do him."

1[
fainl

©f PI
"I

soft!

the[
Oh,

Hbl

therl
•<

Mill
Ihe

eye^
01i^

THE ANSWRR.

krted ou tbo mail train

:n XIII.

swKn.

tep the departnreof
Wildred sat in a kind
whether the eventa of
or whether they were
Lawrence Thorntoo
ear Mildred," as she
<ige, wh» n)i/j;ht hav8
>eeQ suddenly callfd
«ge rolled: down the
estless desire to talk
It ran off to Oliver.
ler Lawrence waim
B almost as happy as

whispered softly aa

Cold Spring path,

lot knowing what it

r little she dreamed
ve which burned in
nd burned there the
must not let it be
le tried to quench it
elike oil poured Qp>
1 the midnight hour,
to hear, he cried in
ill the Good Father
to love her, for I

'rning, but he wel.

accnstorood smile ;

ivas to see her, and

brought into his

> very dark tome
laid, and his long,
y over her shining

caressing her hair,
ct«d it, bent her
liar tourh.
[o without coming
d at the question
i. She could not
'ith her usual im-
and asked, if "as
i Lawrence would
r if Lilian hadn't

»d{ adding, as he
8 : "Does it make
•pyto know that
oves her ?"
» me happier than
ife. 1 wish you
know the feelinc
^im." *

••Oh, Milly! Milly I"

It VkAtt a cry of anguish, wrung from a
fainting heart, but Mildred thought it a cry
of pain.

"What is it, Oliver?" she said, and her
soft hand was laid on his face. " Where is
the pain ? Can I help it T Can I cure it T
Oh, 1 w'sh I rould. There, don't that make
ft better?" and she kissed the pale lips where
there was the shadow of a smile.

•' Yea, I'm better," he answered. •'Dou't,
Mi1ly> please don't," and he drew back as
Ihe saw her about to repeat the kiss.

Mildred looked at him in surprise, say-
'Ing:

*• Why, Oliver, I thought you loved me."
' There was reproach in her soft, lustrous
eyes, and folding his feeble arms about her,
Oliver replied :

*• Heaven grant that you mav never know
how much 1 love you, darling.'*

She did not understand him even then,
but satianed that it was all well between
them, she released herself Irom his embrace
and continued : " Do you think he'll write
and fjaish what he was going to say ?"

" Of course he will," answered OJ'«'er, and
Mildred was about to ask if he believed
she'd get the letter next night, -vhen old
Heusy came up and said to her rather stiffly:
••\ou've talked with him longenouch. lies
all beat out now. It's curia what little sense
some foil. d has."

"Ccari'linother," Olivei attempted to say,
but Mildred's little band was placed upon
his lips, and Mildred herself said :

"She's right, Oily. I have worried you
to death. I'm afraid 1 do you more hurt
than Rood by coming to see you so often.'*

He knew she did, but he would not for
that that she should stay away, even though
her thoughtless words caused him many a
bitter pang.

"Come again to-morrow," he said, as she
went from his side, and telling him that «he
would, she bounded down the stairs, taking
with her, as tho poor, sick Oliver, thought,
all the brightness, all the sunshine, and
leaving in its stead only weariness and
pain.

Up the Cold Spring path she ran, blithe
as a 6iiiging-1)ird, for she saw the Judge
upon tho baok piazza, and knew be had re-
turned.

"Come here, Gipsy," he cried, and in an
instant Mililred was at his side. "Broke
np in » row, didn't we ?" he said, parting
back her huir, and tapping her rosy chin.
"How far along had he got?"

"Ho hadn't got along at all," answered
Mildred, "and I don't believe he was going
to say anj tiling, do you ?"

Much as ho wished to tease her, the Judge

could not resist the pleoding of those eyes*
and he told her all he knew of the matter,
bidding her wait patiently until tomorrow
night, and see what the mail would bring
her.

•'Oh, I wish it wore to-rtoxrow now,"
sighed Mildred. "I'm afraid there's some
mistake, and that he didn't mean me, after
all."

Laughing at what he called her nervous-
ness, the Judge walked away to give some
orders to his men, and Mildred tried vskrious
methods of killing time, and making the day
seem shorter. Just before sunset she stole
away again to Oliver, but Hepsy would not
let her see him.

••He'salluswus after you've been up there,"
she said. •'He's too weakly to stan the way
you rattle on, so you may as well go back,"
and Mildred went back, wondering how her
presence could make Oliver worse, and think-
ing to herself that she would not go to see
him once daring the next day, unless, in-
deed, the letter came, and then she must
show it to him — he'd feel so badly if she
didn't.

The to-morrow so much wished for came
at last, and spite of Mildred's belief to the
contrary, the hours did go ou as usual, until
it was Hve o'clock, and she heard the Judge
tell Finn to saddle the horses, and ride with
him to the village.

"I am going up the mountain a few miles,"
he said; "and as Mildred will want to seethe
evening pa]:)ers before my return, you must
bring them home."

The Judge knew it was not the papers she
wantc<l, and Mildred knew so, too, but it
answered quite as well for Finn, who, within
half an hour after leaving the house, came
galloping up the hill.

"Was there anything for me ?" asked Mil-
dred, meeting him at the gate.

"Yes'm," he an8were<l ; "papers by the
bushel. There's the Post, the Spy, the
Traveller, and "

"Yes, yes," interrupted Mildred; "but the
letter. Wasn't there a letter ?"

"Yes'm ;" and diving first into one pocket
and then into another, Finn handed her the
letter.

She knew it by its superscription, and
leaving the papers Finn had tossed upon the
grass, to be blown about the yard, until they
hnally fell into the little destructive hands
of Rachel's grandbaby, she hurried to her
room, and breaking the seal, saw that it was
herself and not Lilian Veille whom Lawrence
Thornton would have for his bride. Again
and again she read the lines so fraught with
love, lingering longest over the place where
he called her " his beautiful, starry-eyed
Mildred," telling her "how heavy hia heaiw

II'

\<*

MILDRED.

WRS when ho feared she loved another, hm\
hnw that honvinosfl was removed when thn
Judco explained the matter."

" Write to nio at onco, darling," he added
In concluHion, and tell me yea, as I know you
will, unleus I hav* been most cruelly de-
ceivcd."

"I will write to him this very night," shs
said, "but I will show this to Oliver first. I
am sure ho is anxious to know if it cr.me,"
and pressing it to her lips she went Hying
down to the gable-roof.

Hepsy was not this time on guard, and,
gliding up the stairs, Mildred burst into the
room where Oliver lay, partially propped up
in bed, so that he could sec the fading tun-
light shining on the river and on the hill'tops
beyond.

" It's come, Oliver, it's come!'' the ex-
olaimcd, holding the letter to view.

"Jam clad for your sake, M illy," said
Oil', er, a deep flush stealing over his fauo,
ior he felt iustinctively that he was about to
be called upon to pass a painful ordeaL

" I wouldn't show it to nnyhody else," she
continued: " and I can't even read it to yott,
myself ; neither can I stay here while you
read it, for, somehow, I should blush, and
grow so hot and (klgoty, so I'll leave it with
you a few minutes wlule I take a run down
to the tree wliere Lawrence found me Rloep-
ing that Sunday," and, thrusting the letter
into his hand, she hurried out, stumbling
over and nearly upsetting Hcpsy, who was
shelling peas by the open door.

"Oh, tho Lord!" groaned the old lady,
"you've trod on my very biggest com," and
in the laraentAtious sho made over her aching
toe, she forgot to go up and see " if the jade
had worried Oliver," who was tboa left to
himself, as he wished to be.

He would not for the world have opened
that letter. He could not read how much
Mildred Howell was beloved by onother
than himself, and he let it lay just where it
had dropped from his nerveless tingera.

" Why will she torture me so?" ho cried.
" Wliy does sho come to me day after day
with her bright face, and her words of love,
which sound so much like mockery, and yet
'tis far better thus than to have her know
my wicked secret. She would hate me
then — would loathe me in my dp^'^rmity just
as I loathe myself. Oh, why moin't I die
years ago, when we were children together,
and I had not learned what it was to be a
cripple!"

He held >nt> in the sunlight the feet which
his dead mother used to pity and kiss— he
turned them round— took them in his hands,
and, while his tears dropped fast upon them,
he whispered niournfuiry: "This is the curse
which stands between me and Mildred

Howell. Wcrei' not for this I would havo
won her lovo ero Lawrence 'J'iiornton ciuum
with his handsome face and pleasant ways ;
but it cannot be. She will be his l>ride, an ;
he will ciierish her long years after tho gi n^
is growing green over poor forgotten Clulis:

Tiiere was a light step on the stairs : ^]\\■
dred was coming up ; and, hastily eovcrini;
bis feet, he forced a smile upon his face, ainl
handing her the letter, said: "It's just as I
expected. You'll consent, of course ?"

" Yes, but I shall write evet so much be-
fore I come to that, just to tantalize hini,"
returued Mildred, adding that she'd brin!>
her answer down for Oliver to see if it would
dol

A half-stifled moan escaped Oliver's lips
but Mildred did not hear it, and she went
dancing down stairs singing to herself :

*• Never mornliirf smiled BO Rayly,
Kcvcrsky such raUiaaco wore, , ,.
Never passed into the suuahiue
Such a merry queen before."

" A bod v'd s'poso you'd nothing to do but
to sing and dance and trample onmy coma,"
growled Hcpsy, still bu«iy with her pease
and casting a rueful glrtnco at her foot, en-
cased in a most wonderful shoe of her own
manufacture.

"I am sorry, Annt ITepsy," said Mildred,
" but your feet are always in the way," and
singing of the " sunshine," and the " merry
queen of May," she went back to B.ceehWood*,
where a vibitor was waiting for her, Mr.
Robert Thornton!

Ho had followed Geraldine's instructions
implicitly, and simultaneously with the
MajHcld mail-bag he entered tlie hotel where
the Post-office was kept. Senting himself in
the sitting-room opposite, he wa ched the
people as they came in for iheir evenin;,'
papers, until, at last, looking ficm the win-
dow, ho caught Bight of the Judge and Finn.
Moving back a little, so as not to be ob-
served, he saw the former take the letter
which ho knew had been written l)y his son
— saw, too, the expression of the Judce's
face as he glanced at the superscription, anrl
then handed it to Finn, bidding him hurry
home, and saying he should not return for
two hours or more.

"Everjithing works well thus far,"
thought Mr. Thornton; "but I wish it was
over," and with a gloomy, forbidding face^
ho walked the floor, wondering how ho should
approach Mildred, and feeling thr.t the
Judge at least was out of the way. "I'd
rather stir up a nhole menagerie of wild
beosts than that old man," he said to him-
self, "though I don't apprehend much
trouble from him either, for of course he'd
take sides with his so-called son-in-law
sooneir than with a nameless girl. I wonder
how long it takes to read a love-letter t "

9n\
tir

THE ANiWEIl.

t for this I wotiM hnv.
wrenco Tlioniton cm,.
coand ph.ftBaiit wuv.s ■
e will l.e his l.ri.le, an,
ig years Rf tor t)i« ft, ,,
poor forgotten CI u I, s;
tep on theatftirg J M,\.
ft»<l, hastily oovcriti"
mile upon hia face, an.i
. snul: "Its just as I
lent, of cource ?"
rite ever bo much be.
9t to tantalize him "
.'.ng that she'd brin..
liver to see if it wuuia

escnpeJ Oliver'* lip,
«*r It, and she went
'Sing to herself X
nllodeoffayly, i .
Klianco wore,
' the sunaldne '
en beforo."

I'd nothing to do bnt
cample on my corns,"
"^y with her pease
iico at her foot, en-
till shoe of her own

f^psy," said Mildred,
ys^m the Tvay," ,n,l
B. and the "niorry
back to Bc«ehWoo(f,
uting for her, Mr

dine's instnictions
eo«s]y with the
•edtlio hotel where
SentiBg himself in
. lie Wa:ched the
for fLeir eveiWn '
"n.c: fviin the win-^
le Judge and Finn,
as not to he ob«
sr take the letter
written by his son
>n of the Judge's
Jpcrscnj)tion, and
>Kl(ling him hurry
lid not return for

^11 thna far,"
nit I wish it was
. forbidding face,
ing how ho should
ft-'eling thr.t the

the way. "I'd
lenagcrio of wild

he said to him-
pprohend much
T of course he'd
illcd son-in-la\r
' girl. I wonder
ovo-Ietter ? "

• *'• Supper, sir," cri<»d the jolourcd waiter,
and thinUnig this as good a way of killing
time &r, any, Mr. Thorntun fuutd ids way to
the (iiniug-roiim.

But he was too excibod to eat, and forcing
dowii a cup (if tea l;o started for Beechwood,
th« road to wliich was a familiar one, for
jeari before he had traversed it often in
'facst of his young girl-wif^ Now it was
Another Mildred hu sought, and ringing the
•>|>ell ho inquired " if Mies Howell was in?"
h "Down to Hepsy'a. I'll go after her,"
■aid Luce, at the same time showing him into
« the drawing-room and asking his name.
<i "Mr. Tlioniton," was the reply, and
^'hurrying oti', Luue met Mildred coming up
'the garden walk.

) "Mr. Thornton returned so soon!" she

1 exclaimed, uiid without waiting to hoar

Luce 8 explanation that it was not Mr. Law-

retice, but an eld, sour-looking man, sho

"«piang swiftly forward. "1 wonder why

: he sent the letter if he intended coming

himself ? " she thought ; " bnt I am so glad

. he's here," and she stole, before going to the

' parlour, up to her room to smooth her hair

H and take a look in the glass.

She might have spared herself the trouble,
< however, for the tjold, haughty man, wait-
' ing impatiently her coming, cared nothing
» for her hair, nothing for her beautiful face,
«nd when ho heard her light step in the hall
he arose, and purposely stood with his back
;. towaid the door and his eyes fixed upon the
i portrait of her, who in that room, had been

made his bride.
I «« Why, it isn't Ijawrence. It's his fath-
- er 1 " dropped involuntarily from Mildred's
' lips, and blushing like a guilty thing, she
• stopped upon thf threshold, half trembling
with fear as the cold gray eyes left the por-
trait and were fixed upon herself.

"So you thought it was Lawrence," he
said, bowing ratiier stiQly, and oiTering her
his hand. "I conclude then that I am a
. less welcome visitor. Sit down by me,
Miss Howell," he continued, I am here to
talk with yon, and as time hasttns I may as
well come to tho point at once. You have
just received a letter from my son?"
"Yes, sir," Mildred answered faintly.
"And in that letter he asked you to be
his wife T " Mr. Thornton went on in the
same haril, dry tone, as if it were ncthing to
him that he was cruelly torturing the young
girl at his side. "lie asked you to be his
wife, I say. May I, as his father, know
what answer you intend to give ? "

The answer was in Mildred's tears, which
now gushed forth plenteously. Assuming a
gentler tone, Mr. Thorntou continued :

" Miss Howell, it must not be. I have
other wishes for my son* *ud unless he

obeys thwi, I am a ruined man. I do not
blame you as much as Lawrence, for you do
not know everything as he does."

" Why not go to him, then? Why need
you Qome here to trouble mo?" cried Mil-
dred, burying lior face in the cushions of the
sofa.

"Because," answered Mr. Thornton, "it
would be useless to go to him. He is infat-
uated — blinded as it wcro, to his own inter-
est. He thinks he loves you, Miss Howell,
but he will get over that and wonder at his
fancies."

Mihlrcd's orying ceased at this point,
and not the sliglitest agitation was visible,
while Mr. Thornton continued :

"Lilian Veillo has long been intended for
my son. She knew it. JJe knew it. You
knew it, and I leave you to judge whether
under these circumstances it was right for
you to encourage him."

Mildred sat bolt upright now, and in the
face turned toward her tormentor there
was that which made ^'m quail for an instant,
but soon recovering his composure he went on:

" He never had a thought of doing other-
wise than marrying Lilian until quite re-
cently, even though he may say to the con-
trary. I have talked with him. I know,
and it astonished me greatly to hear from
Geraldine that he haa been coaxed into

" Stop !" and like a young lioness Mildred
sprang to her feet, her beautiful face pale
with anger, which Hashed like sparks of fire
from her dark eyes.

Involuntarily Mr, Thornton turned to see
if it was the portrait come down from the
canvas, the attitude was so like what he
onf-e had seen in the Mildred of other days.
But the picture still hung upon the wall, and
it was another Mildred, saying to him in-
dignantly :

" He was not coaxed into it I I never
dreamed of such a thing until Judge Howell
hinted it to mo, not twenty minutes before
Lilian surprised us as she did."

"Judge Howell," Mr. Thornton repeated,
beginning to get angry. "I suspected as
much. I know him of old. Kineteen years
ago, he was a poorer man than I, and he
conceived the idea of marrying his only
daughter to the wealthy Mr. Thornton, and
though he counts his money now by hundreds
of thousands, he knows there is power and
influence in the name of Thornton still, and
he does not think my son a bad matcli for
the unknown foundling he took from the
street, and has grown weary Oi keeping 1"

"The deuce I have!" was hoarsely
whispered in the adjoining room, w here the
old Judge sat, hearing every word of that
strange conversation.

«..tii>KlSD.

'i !

He hml tot Rone up th« mountain na he
tnteniU'ii, ami litid re»olie<l Refluhwootl juat
M Mil(lr«!<l wan coming down tho atAira.
Lucy t'lld him Mr. Tliornton waa there,
and, tliinUin^ it waa IjAwronco, he went
into iiln lii)rnry to put away aome buaineaa
pupura UK! joiiiitii^ hia ^ueat in the drawing*
room. Whilo ther« he heard the words,
*• You have just received a latter from my
•on ?"

" Bob Thornton, aa I live ?" he exclaimed.
" What brou^^ht him here? I don't like the
tone of Ilia vuioe, and I wouldn't wonder if
•omething wan in tho wind. Anyway, 111

tuat wait and see, and if he inaulta Mildred,
le'U Hnd himself hisled out of thia houae
pretty quick I"

So Baying, the Judge aat down in a p.^ai-
tion when not a word escaped him, and, by
holding on to hia chair and awearing ittle
bits of oaths to liimseif, he managed to k<;ep
tolerably quiet while the oouveraation wont
on.

" I will be plain with you, Misa Howell,"
Mr. Thornton said. " My heart ia aet upon
I^awrenco's marrying Lilian. It will kill
her if he tlona not, and I am here to aok yon,
as a favour to me and to Lilian, to refuao hia
suit. Will you do it?"

•'No !" drop|ied involunlarily from Mild-
red's lipa, and waa responded to by a heavy
blow of thu tist upon Judge Howell's fat
knee.

" Well (lone for Spitfire I" heaaid. " She'a
enough for old Bobum yet. I'll wait a trifle
longer before I tire my gun."

So ho waited, growing very red in the
face, as Mr. Thornton answered, indig-
nantly ;

•' You will not, you aay ? I think I can
tell you that which may change your mind ;"
and he explained to her briefly how, vmless
Lilian Veille were Lawrence's wife, and that
very soon, they would all be beggars.
•' Nothing but dire neceaaity could have
wrung this coufesiion from me," he said,
"and now Miss Howell, think again. Show
yourself the brave, generous girl I am sure
you arc. Tell my son you cannot be hin
wife ; but do mit tell him why, else he might
not give you up. Do not let him know that
I have seen you. Do it for Lilian's aaku, if
for no other. You love her, and you surely
would not wish to cause her death."

••No, no— oh, no I" moaned Mildred,
whose only weakness waa loving Lilian
Ycille too we;!

Air. Thornton saw the wavering, and,
taking from hi? pocket tho letter Geraldino
iad jircpared Avith so much care, he bade her
read it. And then say if alio could anawev
" Yes " to L.x:.Trcuce Thornton.

Geraldiue Yiullo know whai she waa doini'

when ahe wrote a letter which appealed
powerfnlly to every womanly tender leeling
of Mildred'a impulaive nature. Lilian wa*
repreaented aa bi-ing dangerously ill, and in
her delirium begging of Mildred nut to taka
Lawrence l^om ner.

" it woulc) toucli a heart of atone," wrote
Oeraldine, " i.Q hear her iilaintive plcadingn,
'Oh, Milly, dekr Milly, don't take him from
me — don't— for I loved )iim first, and ho
loved me I Wait till I am dead Milly. It
won't be long. I can't live many yean, and
When I'm gone, he'll go back to you.'"

Then followed aevetal atrong argnmenta
from Oeraldine why Mildred should givs
him up and so aave Li I it. n from dying, and
Mildred, aa she read, felt the defiant hard-
ness which Mr. Thornton's lirat words had
awakened alowly ffiving way. Covering her
face with her hands, ahe aobbed :

" What must I do ? What aliall I do V*

" Write to Lawrence and tell him no,"

answered Thornton ; while Mildred moaned:

" Buc I love him ao much, oh, so much."

" So does Lilian," returned Mr. Thornton,

beginning to fear that the worst waa not yet

over. "So doea Lilian, and her claim ia

best. Liaten to me, Misa Howell — Lawrence

may prefer you now, but he would tire of

you when the novelty wore off. Pardon me

if I speak plainly. The Thorntons are a

Eroud race, the proudest, perha])?, in Boston,
lawrence, too, ia proud, and in a moment of
cool reflection he ^vould shrink from making
one hia wife whoae parentage ia as doubtful
as your own."

Mildred shook now as with an ague
chill. It had not occurred to ner
that Lawrence might aometime blush when
asked who his wife waa, and with her bright
eyes fixed on Mr. Thornton'a face ahe listen*
od breathlessly, while he continued :

"Only the day that he came to Beeohwood
he gave me to understand that he conld not
think of marrying you cnltss the mystery of
your birth were mad<! clear. But when here,
he waa, I darcaay, intoxicated with your
beauty, for, excuse me, Miss Howell, you are
b«!autiful;" and he bowed low, while he paid
this compliment to the girl whose lip curled
haughtily as if she would cast it from her in
disdain.

"He forgot himself for n rime, I presume,
hut hia better judgment will pnvail at last.
I know you have been a(loi)teil hy the Judge,
but that does not avail — tUnt will not prevent
some vile woman from calling yuu her child.
You are not a Howell. You aif not my son's
equal, and if you would iG<rii]ti' the bittv.r

I ititication of one d;.y .s ;ing your
..usband's relatives, aye, auil viu- husband,

00, ashamed to acknowkiiyc y. ■, refuse hig
3uit at once, and seek a com, aiu. a —one wh^,

THE ANSWER.

bter which appealed
Tiaiily teiuler feeling
iiaiiirc. Lilian wa«
neerounly ill, and in
Mtldrud uot to taki

lart of ntone," wrote

tilaintive plcadingn,

<loii't tnlte him from

liiin first, and ho

am dead Milly. It
live many yean, and
hack to you. ' "
il Btrong argtunenti
5ildred should give
Im from dying, and
>lt the defiant hard-
n's lirat words had

way. Covering her

sobbed :
A hat shall I do f"

and ttiU him no,"
ile Mildred moaned:
ucii, oh, 80 much."
irned Mr. Thornton,
le worst was not yet
I, and her claim is
s Howell — Lawrence
ut he would tire of
ore otr. Pardon ma
le Thorntons are a
, perhaps, in Boston.

and in h moment of

shrink from making
nta^o ia as doubtful

as with an sene

occurnul to her

metime blush when

and with her bright

ton's face she liaten*

continued t

came to Beeohwood

. that ho conld not

i(6s the mystery of

|ar. But when here,

xicated with your

iss Howell, you are

low, wliile he paid

rl \vho9u lip curled

cast it from her in

t< rime, T presume,

vill pr ivail at last.
Iittil ^y the Judgp,
i.ir will notpreTent

ling viiu her child.
(Ill ail' not my son's
<S(';i])i' the bitter

il. y H ;ing your
II. i v'.u- husband,
\y.i! y- 0, refuse hi,

nil am. u — one wb„

would lie satinded with the few thousands
tliv Judge will prulialily give you, and con-
sider tliat a nudicicnt recompense for your
family. Will you ilo it, Miss Howell ? "

Mildred was t<-rrildy excited. Even death
itself tt'CMiud ]ircfurAblu to seeing Lawrence
aaliaincd of ii«-r, ond while object after object
chased each other in rapid circles before hui
eyes, she answered :

"1 will try to do your bidding, Uiough it
breaks my heart."

The next moment she lay among the
cushions of tlm sofa, white and motionlesi
save when a tremor shook her frame, showing
what she nullered.

"The little gun, it seems, has given out,
and now it'H time for the cannon," cnme
heaving up from the deep chest of the en-
raged Judge, and snatching from his private
drawer a roll of paper, he strode into the
drawing-room, and confronting the astonished
Mr. Thornton, began : '* Well, Bobum, are

frou through? If so, you'd better be travel-
ing if you don't want the print of my foot on
irour tine broadcloth coat," and he raised his
leavy calfHkin threateningly. "I he.-»rd you,''
he continued, as ho saw Mr. Thornton about
to speak. "I heard all about it. You don't
want Mildred to marry Lawrence, and not
satisfied with working upon her most unao-
countablo love for that little soft, putty-head
dough-bake, ynii tell her that she ain't uood
enough for a Thornton, and bid her marry
somebody who will be satisfied with the few
thousands I shall probably give her. Thun-
der and Mars, Bob Thornton, what do you
take me to bo ? Just look here, will you ?
Theu tell me what you think about the few
thousand!)," ind he unrolled what was un-
questionablv the "Last Will and Testament
of Jacro Howell." " You won't look,
hey," he continued. " Listen, then.
'But first, how much do you imagine
I'm worth ? What do men in Kontoo
suy of old Howell when they want his
name? Don't they rate him at half
a million,and ain't every red of that willed on
black and white to Mildred, the child ot my
adoption, except indeed tea thousand given
to Oliver Hawkins, because I knew (jiipsy'd
raise a fuss if it wasn't, and twenty thousand
more donated to some blasted Missionary
societies, not because 1 believe in't, but
because I tiiouglit maybe 'twould atone for
my swearing once in a whilc^ and sitting on
the piazza so many Sundays in my casy^iihair,
instead of slidiug down hill all day <nn those
confounded hard cushions and high seats
down at St. Luke's. The Apostle himself
couldn't sit on 'cm an hour without getting
mighty fidg«?ty. But that's nothing to do
vith my will. "Just listen," and he read :
** I give, bequeath and devise — and so forth,"

while Mr. Thor ton's face tuined black, red,
Biiil white alternately.

He had no idea that the little bund!« of
muslin and lace now trembling so violently
upon the sofa had no large a share of .hidge
Howell's heart snd wilf, or he might have
acted dirt'ercntly, for the Judge's money was
as valuable as Lilian Veille s, and though
Mildred's family might Iw a trifle exception-
able, four hundred thousand dollars, or there*
abonts, would oover a multitude of sins.
But it was now too late to retract. The
Judge would see his motive at once, and
resolving to brave the storm he had raised,
he affected to answer with a sneer :

" Money will not make amends for tytry
thing. I think «]uite aa much of family ai of
wealth."

" Now, by the Lord," resumed the Judg%
growing purple in the face, " Bob Thornton,
who do you think you be? Didn't your
grandfather make chip baskets all his life
over in Wolf Swamp? Wasn't one of your
aunts no better than she should be ? Didn't
your uncle die in the poor-houie, and your
cousin steal a sheep ? Answer me that, and
then twit Mildred about her parentage. How
do you know that she ain't my own child,
hey? Would you swear to it? We are an
nigh alike as two peas, everybody says. I
tell you, Bobum, you waked up the wrong
passenger this time. I nlanned the marriage,
did I, between you and |ny other Mildred t
It's false, Bob Thornton, and you know it—
but 1 did approve it. Heaven forgive me, I
did encourage her to barter her glorious
beauty for money. But you didn't enjoy
her long. She died, and now you would
kill the other one— the little ewe-lamb
that has slept in ih« old man's bosom so
long."

The Judge's voice was gentler now in Ita
tone, and drawing near to Mildred, he
smoothed her nut brown hairteadeily, oh, ao
tenderly.

" I did not come seekiog a qnarrel with
you," said Mr. Thornton, vvho had his own
private teasons for not wishing to exasuerate
the Judge too much. "I came after a
promise from Miss Howell. I have succeed*
cd, and knowing that ahe will keep her

word, I will now take my leave "

"No you won't," thundered the Judge,
leaving Mildred and advancing toward the
door, so aa cfTeutually to cut ofTall means of
escape. " No you won't till I've had my say
out. If Mildred ain't good enough for your
eon, your son ain't good enough for Mildred.
Do you hear ?''

"I am not deaf, sir," was the cool answer,
and the Judge went on :

"Even if she hadn't promised to refuse
him, she should do so. I've bad enough to

MILDRED.

IffPf

do with the Tborntona. I hate the whole
race, even if I did encourage the boy. I've
nothing against him in particular except that
he's a Thornton, and maybe I ahall get over
tliat in time. No, I won t, though, hanged
if I do. Such a paltry puppy as he's got
for a father. You may all go to the bad ;
bat before you go, pay me what you owe
me, Bob Thornton— pay mo what you owe
mo.

'It isn't due yet," faltered Mr. Thornton,
who had feared 8ome such demand ' as this,
tor the Judge was hia heaviest creditor.

"Ain't due, hey?" repeated the Judge.

*'It will be in just three weeks, and if the

m;>ney ain't forthcoming the very day,

, hanged if I don't foreclose 1 I'll taach you to

Bay Mildred ain't good enough for your son.

.Mali alive! she's goad enon^jh for the

' Emperor of France ! Get out of my house 1

! Waatare you waiting fort" and, standing

br.ck, he made way for the discomtited Mr.

'., Thornton to pass out.

. In the hall the latter paused and glanced
' toward Mildred as if he would 'jpeak to her,
.while the Judge, diviuing his thoughts,
', Ihundeied out:

" I'll see thai she keeps her word. She
never told a lie yet."

One bittex look of hatred Mr. Thornton
oast upon him, and then movea slowly down
the w:>,lk, hearing, even after he reached the
r gate, the words :

" Hanged if I don't f-reclose !"

, "There! that's done with!" said the

I Juti_s;e, walking back to the parlour, where

Mildred still lay uppu the sofa, stunned, and

■' faint, and nnabls to move. "Poor little

. girl," iie began, lifting up her head and

^ pil owing it upon his .broad cheat. "Are

you almost killed, poor little Spitfire? You

, fought bravely through r. spell, till he begaa

to twit you of your mother — the dog ! Just

as thouah you wasn't good enough for his

boy ! You did right, darling, to say you

wouldn't have him. There 1 there !"

and he held her closer to him, as she

moaned :

■' Oh, Lawrence 1 Lawrence 1 how can I
give you up ?"

"It will be hard at first, I reckon," return-
/ ed the Judge ; " jut you'll get over it in
lime. I'll take you over to England next
Jummer, and hunt up a nobleman for yori :
then see what Bobum will say when ho hears
you are Lady Somebody. "

Bee Mildred did not care for the nobleman,
One thought alone distracted her thoughts.
She had promised to refuse Lawrence
Thornton, and, more than all, she could
give him no good reason for her refusal.
^ " Oh, I wish I could wake vip and find it
all a dream !" she cried; but, alas I she could

not ; 't was a stern reality ; and covering
her face with her hands, she wept aloud as
she pictured to herself Lawrence's grief and
amazement when he received the letter
which she must vrite.

" I wish to goodness I knew what to say!"
thought the Judge, greatly moved at the
sight of her distress.

Then, aa a new^ idea occurred to him, he
said :

"Hadn't you better go down and tell it
all to OJ'zba, — he can comfort you, I guess.
He's younger twan I am, and his heart ain't
all puckered up like a pickled plum. "

Yes, Oliver could comfort her, Mildred be*
lieved ; for if there was a ray of hope he
would be sure to see it ; and although it
tl^eu was nearly nine, she vesolved to go to
him at once. Hepsy would fret, she knew ;
but she did not care for her, — she didn't care
for anybody : and drying her tears, she was
soon moving down the Cold Spring path,
not lightly, joyously, aa she was wont to do,
bi*- slowly, sadl^, for the world was changed
to her since she trod that path before, sing
ing of the sunshiue and tbc merry queeu of
May.

She found old Hepsy knitting by the door,
and enjoying the bright moonlight, inasmuch
as it precluded the necessity of wasting »
tallow candle.

" Want to see Oliver V she growled, "You
ca a't do it. There's d" sense m your having
so much whisperi.-ig up there, and that's the
end on't, Widdei Simms says it don't look
well for you, a big, grown-up girl, to be
hangin' round Oliver. "

" Widow Simms is an old gossip I"retur-.
ed Mildred, adding by way of gaining hei-
point, that she wrs going to "buy a pair of
new, large slippers tor Hepsy's corns."

The old lady 5ho>/ed signs of relenting at
once, and when Mildred threw iu a box of
black snuff with a Lean in it, the victory was
won, and she at liborty to join Oliver. He
heard her well-knov»'n step, but he was not
prepared for her white face and swollen "yes,
and in much alarm he asked her what had
happened.

'' Oh, Oliver 1" she cried, burying her face
in the pillow, "it's all over. I shall never
marry Lawrence. I have promided to refuse
him, and my heart is aching so hard that T
most wish I were dead."

Vtry wonderingly he looked at her, as in
a few words she told him of the excitihg
scene through which she had been passing
since she left him so full of hope. Then lay-
ing her head a second tim»> upon th*. pillow,
shi} cried aloud, while Oliver, too, covering
his face with the sheet, wept great burning
tears of joy — joy at Mildred'd pain. Poor,
poor Oliver; he could not help it, and for

ai]

7 ; and covering
le wept aloud aa
^fence's grief and
3ived the letter

ewwhat to aay!"
y moved at the

irred to him, he

down and tell it
>rt you, I guesB.
d his heart ain't
5d plum. "
her, Mildred be-
ray of hope he
and although it
esolved to go to
fret, she knew ;
—she didn't care
iT teara, she was
Id Spring path,
was wont to do,
rid was changed
ath before, sing
merry queeuof

;ingbythedoor,
ilight, inasmuch
ty of wasting »

I growled. "Yoo
J in your having
, and that's the
ys it don't look
•"P girl, to be

;os8ip r'retur.v
' of gaining her
"buy a pair of
scorns."
of relenting at
'ew iua box of
the victory was
in Oliver. He
but he was not
id swollen "yes,
her what had

urying her face

I shall never

mided to refuse

fio hard that T

rl at her, as in
of the exciting

been passing
)o. Then lay.
un thv. pillow,

too, covering
great burning
• pain. Poor,
Ip it, anc". for

WHAT FOLLOWED.

one single moment he abandoned himself
to the -lifishness which M'hispered that
the world wou'd be the brighter and his
life the' happier if none ever had a better
claim to Mildred than himselt.

" Ain't you going to comfori me one bit ?"
came plaintively to hia ear, but he did n,ot
answer.

Tl<e tie.'ce struggle between duty and self
was not ...er yet, and Mildred waited in vain
for -lip reply.

"/.re you crying, too?" she asked ii her
ear cuglit a low, gasping sob. " Yes, you
are," she continued, aa removing the sheet
she saw the tears on his face.

To see Oliver cry was ia these days a rare
sight to Mildred, and, partially forgetting
her own trouble in her grief at having caused
him pain, she laid her arm across his neck,
and in her sweetest accents said:

"Dear, dear Oily, I di<lu't think you would
feel so badly for me. There— don't, " and she
brushed away the tears which only fell the
faster. *' I shall get over it, maybe ; Judge
Howell says I will, and if I don't I shan't
•Alwnya feel as I do now — I couldn't and live.
1 sh.il be ccRifortably happy by-and -bye, per-
haps, and thei' if I never marry you know
you and I are to live together. Up at Btech-
wood, maybe. That is to be mine someday,
and you shall have that pleas uit chamber
looking out upon the town and mountains
beyond. You'll read to me every morning,
while I work for the children of some Dorcas
Society, for I shall be a benevolent old maid,
I guess. Won't it be splendid?" and in her
desire to comfort Oliver, who, she verily be-
lieved, was weeping because she was not going
to marry Lawrence Thornton, Mildred half
forfTot her own grief.

Dear M illy! She had yet much to learn
of love's great mystery, and she could not
understand how great was the effort with
which Oliver dried liis tears, and, smiling up-
on her, said:

" I trust the time you speak of will never
come, fori would far rather Lawrence should
do the reading;, while you work for children
with eyes like yours, Milly," and he smiled
pleasantly upon her.

He was bej^inning to comfort her now. His
own reelings were under control, and he told
her how, though it would be right for her to
send the letter as she promised, Lawi unco
would not cons.^i t. Ho would come at once
to seek an exjdauation, and by some means
the truth would come out, aud they be happy
yet.

" You are my good angel, OUy," said Mil-
dred. " You a' ways know just what to say,
and it is strango you do, seeing you never
loved any one as I do Lawrence Tliornton."

Aud Mildred's suowy

lingers

parted his

light-brown hair, all unconsoions that their
very touch was torture to the young man.

" I am going now and my heart is a great
deal lighter than when I Urat came in," she '
said, and, pressiing her lips to hi?, foreheac^i
she went down the stairs and out into the
moonlip'^:!, not singing, not dancing, noti
r mning, but with a quicker movemeut than
V hen she came, for there was stealing over
ner a quiet hopefulness that, as Oliver had
said, all would yet be welL

Monday morning came, and with a throb-
bing heart, aud fingers which almost refused
to do their olfice, she wrote to Lawrence
Thornton :

"I cannot be your wife— neither can I give
you any reason. x.riLDRED."

With swimming eyes she read the cold,
brief lines, and then, as she reflected that
in a moment of desperation Lawrence might
offer himself to Lilian, and so be lost to her
fortfver, she laid her head upon the table
and moaned : "

•• I cannot, cannot send it."

'*Y"e8 you can, Gipsy, be brave," came
from the Judge, who for a moment had
been standing behind her. " Show Bobum
that yoy have pluck. "

Biit Mildred cared more for LaAvrencd
Thornton than she did for jdiick, and she
continued weeping bitterly^ while the Judge
placed the letter m the envelope, thinking
to himself :

" It's all-ftred hard, I s'pose, but hanged
if she shall have him, after Bob sa; 1 what
he did. I'll buy her a Set of diamonds,
thoM-jh. see if I don't, and next winter she
shall have some live hundred dollar furs.
I'll show Bob Thornton whether I mean to
•jive her a few thousands or not, the repro-
bate ! "

And finishing tip his soliloquy with a
thought bf the mortgages he wus going t(.
foreclose, he sealed the letter, jammed it
into hi? pocket, and passing his gr^-at hand
caressingly over the bowed head upon lie
table, hurried away to the post-office.

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT FOLLOW. BD.

"I wonder if the Western mail is in yet,"
and GeraWine Veille glanced carelessly up at
the clock ticking upon the marblp mantel
peered sideways at the young man reading
upon the sofa, and then resumed her crochet-
ing.

•' I was just thinking the same," returned
Lawrence, folding up his paper and consult-
ing his watch. " I suppose father comes in
this ttain. I wonder what took him to
Albany ? "

"The same old story — business, business,"

3.i

U'' }

' i

'1 1

. :■ il>

. !

4 ' i

1: o

MILDRED.

answered Geraldine. "He is veiy much
embarrassed, he tells mt and unless he can
procure money he is h i he will have to
Uil. Lily might let him have hers, I snp*
pose, if it wete well secured."

Lawrence did not repl^, for, truth to say,
he was just then thinKing more of his ex-
pected letter than of his father's failure, and
taking his hat he walked rapidly to the ofHce,
already crowded with eager faces. There
were several letters in the Thcrnton box
that night, but LaMrrence cared for only one,
and that the one bearng the Mayfield post-
n^ark. He knew it was from Mildred, for
he had seen her plain, decnled handwriting
before, and he gave it a loving squeeze, just
as he would have given the fair writer, if
■he had been there instead. Too impatient
to wait until he reach his home, he tore the
letter open in the street, and read it, three
times, before he could believe that he read
aright, and that he was rejected.

Crumpling the cruel lines in his hand, he
hurried on through street after street, know-
ing nothing where he was going, and caring
less, so suddenly and crushingly had the
blow fallen upon him.

" I cannot be yoar wife — I cannot be your
^ife!" he heard it ringing in his ears, turn
whjch way he would, and with it at last
came the maddening thought that tho reason
why she could not bo his wife was that she
lovsd another. Oliver had been dccei\-ed,
the Judge had been deceived, and he had
been cruelly deceived.

But he exonoiated Mildred from all blame.
RI.e liad never eucouraged liim by a %vord or
liH>k, cxet-pt inrlced when she sat by him
upon the sofa, and he thought ho saw in her
speaking face that she was not inditfeyeot to
him. But he was mistakca. He knew it
now, and, with a wildly beating heart and
whirling brain, ho wandered on and on, until
theeveuingshadowa were bepinuingtolfall. and
ho felt the night dew on his burni:)g forehead.
Then ho turned honiew.ird, where more than
one waited anxiously his coming.

Mr. Thornton had leturufd, and, entering
his house just after Lawrcnco left it, had
communicated to (iern)dinn tho result of his
late advcntut'.', withholding in a measure tho
part which tho old Judge had taken in tho
affair, and sayin^j nothing of tho will, which
had so astonished him.

" Do you think she'll keep her promise ?"
Geraldino asked.

But Mr. Thornton could not tell, and both
watched nervously for Lawrence.

Geraldine was tho first to seo him ; she
stood upon the stairs when lio came into tho
hall. Tho gas was already lighted, showing
the ghastly whiteness of his face, and by
that she knew that Mildred Howell had

kept her word. An
dine knocked softly

hour later when Geral-
at his door, and heard

his reply, "Engaged," she muttered, "Not
to Mildred Howell though," and then wunt
to her own room, where lay sleeping the
Lilian for whoso sake this snfTenng was
catised. Assured by Geraldine that all
would yet be well, she had dried her tears,
and, as she never felt badly long upon any
subject, she was to all appearances on the
best of terms with Lawrence, Avho, grateful
to her for behaving so sensibly, treated her
with even more than his usual kindness.

The illness of which Geraldine had written
to Mildred was of course a humbug, for
Lilian was not one to die of a broken heart,
and she lay there sleeping sweetly now,
while Geraldine paced the floor, wondering
what Mildred Howell had written and what
the end would be.

The next morning Lawrence come down to
breakfast looking so hacgavd and worn that
his father involuntarily" asked if he were
sick.

"No, not sick," was Lawrence's hurried
answer, as he piokcd at the enowy roll and
affected to sip his coffee.

"You have had bad news, I'm sure/'
said Geraldino, throwing into her manner as
much concern as possible.

Lawrence piade no reply, except indeed
to place his feet tipon the back of a chair
ard fold his hands "ogether over his head.

I was a little fearful of some such denou-
jKf^if," Geraldine continued, " for, as I
hinted to you on Friday, I was almost cer-
tain she fancied young Hudson. He called
here last eveoing — and seemed very con-
scious when I cai'.nlly mentioned her name.
What leasou does she give for refusing
yon ?"

"None whatever," said Lawrence, shifting
his position a little by upsotti^ig the chair
on which hi.s feet were placed.

"That's strange," returned Geraldine, in-
tently studying thepattern of the carpet as if
she would there find acause for thestrangeness.
"Never mind, coz," she added, laughingly,
"don't let one disappointment break your
heart. There are plenty <if girls besides
Mildred Howell ; so let her have young Hud-
son, if she prefers him."

No answer from Lawrence, who was be-
ginning to bo dreadfully jealous of youtig
Hudson.

" It may be. It may bo," he thought,
"but why couldn't slie have told me so?
Why leave me entirely in the dark ? Does
she fear the wrath of Hudson's mother in
case I should betray her ?"

Yes, that icas the reason, he believed, and
inordcr to make the matter sure, ho resolved

hia

thi

to write

again

and ask her, and forgetting

WHAT FOLLOWED.

er 'when Gera1>
oor, and heard
uttered, "Not
md tlien wunt
r sleeping the
suffering was
(line that all
ried her tears,
loug upon auy
arances on tlie
, who, grateful
y, treated her
kindness,
ne had written
humbug, for
broken heart,
sweetly now,
or, wondering
btcn and what

CO mo down to
and worn that
cd if he were

•pnce's hnrrieil
!UOAvy roll and

s, I'm sure/'
her manner as

except indeed
ack of a chair
er his head,
such denou-
"for, as I
'as almost cer-
He called
cd very con-
icd her name,
for refusing

i-enco, shifting
i-ig the chair

jcraMine, in-
ihe carpet as if
16 strangeness.
1, laughingly,
1 break your
girls besides
re young Hud-

who was be-
ous of young

he thought,

told me so ?

dark ? Does

ti'a mother in

believed, and
e, hn resolved
and forgetting

his father's request that he shonld "cdie
down to the ofhce as soon as convenient,'^ he
•pent the morning in writing to Mildred a
second time. He had intended to tell her
that he guessed the reason of her refusal, but
instead of that he poured out his whole soul
in one paesionate entreaty for her to think
again, and reconsider lier derision. No other
one could love her as he did, he said, and he
besought of lier to give him one word of hope
to cheer the despair which had fallen so
darkly around him. The letter being sect,
Lawrence sat down in a kiud of apathetic
despair to await the result,

• • • • • t ■

•* WLat, hey, the bey has written, has
0e T" and adjusting his gold specs, the old
Judge looked to see if the eight ,Dage8 Finn
had just given to him were really j|rom Law*
rence Thornton. "He's got cood grit," daid
he, "and I like him for it, out hanged if I
doa't teach Bobum a lesson. I can feel big
M well as he. Gipsy not good enough for
AIM boy ! I'll show him. She looks brighter
to-day than she did. She ain't going to let
it kill her, and as there's no use worrying
her for nothing, I shan't let her see this.
But I can't destroy it, nor read it neith.^r.
8o I'll just put it where the old Nick himself
cojldu't find it," and touching the hidden
spring of a secret drawer, he hid the letter
which Mildred, encouraged by Oliver, had
half expected to receive.

Tl':^c he repe'ated of the act when he saw
how disappointed she seemed when he met
her at the supper-tab!?, and though he had
no idea of giving her ti e letter, he thought
to make amends some other way.

" I have it," he suddeu.^y exclaimed, as he
■at alone in his library, after Mildred had

f;one to bed. " I'll dock off five thousand
rom that missionary society and add it to
Sp'tfire's portion. The letter ain't worth
o>ora than that," and satisfied that he was
making the best possible reparation, he
broucht out his will and made the alteration,
which took from the missionary society
enough to feed and clothe several clergymen
a year.

Four days more brought another letter from
Lawrence Thornton—larger, heavier tivan
the preceding one, crossed all ov<)r, as could
be plainly seen through the envelope, and
worth, as the Judge calculated, about ten
thousand dollars. So he place-l i<hat amount
to Mildred's credit, by wa; of quieting his
conscience. One week more, and uiere
came another.

"Great heaven!" groan ca the Judge, as
he gave Mildred the last live thousand dol-
lars, and left the uiissionaries nothing.
"Great heaven, what willfl do next?" and
h« glanced ruefully at the clause commen

ing with "I give and bequeath to Oliver
Hawkins," etc. "'Twon't do to meddle
with that," said he. "I might as well
touch Gipsy's eyes as to harm the reel-
footed boy," and his despair the Judge began
to consider the expediency of praying that no
more letters should come from Lawrence
Thornton.

Remembering, however, that in the prayer-
book there was nothing suited to that
emergency, he gave up that wild project
and concluded that if Lawrence wrote again
he would answer it himself; but this he was
not compelled to do, for Lawrence grew
weary at last, and calling his pride to his
aid resolved to leave Mildred to herself, and
neither write acain nor seek an interview
with her, as he nad thought of doing, No
more letters came from him, but on the day
when his father's mortgages were due, the
Judge received one from Mr. Thornton
hegging for a little longer time, and saying
that unless it were granted be was » rumea
man.

"Ruined or not, I shall foreclose,"
muttered the Judge. "I'll teach him to
come into my house and say Gipsy isn't
good enough for his boy."

Looking a little further, he read that
Lawrence was going to Europe.

"What for, nobody knows," wrote Mr.
Thornton. " He will not listen to reason or
anything else, and I suppose he will sail in
a few davs. I did not imagine he loved
your Mildred so much, and sometimen I
have regretted my interference, but it is
too late now, I daresay. "

This last was thrown out as a bait,
at which Mr. Thornton hoped the Judge
might catch. The fact that Mildred v os an
heiress had produced a .'.light chai^f in
his opinion of her, and he would not now
greatly object to receiving her as his
daughter-in-law. But he was far too proud
to say so — he would rather the first con-
cession should come from the Judge, who,
while understanding perfectly the hint,
swore he would not take it.

" If anybody comes round it'll be himself,"
he said. " I'll teach him what's what, and
I won't extend the time either. I'll see
Lawyer Monroe this very day, but first I'll
tell Gipsy 4hat the boy is oCf for Europe.
Ho, Gipsy !" he called, as he heard her in
the hall, and in a moment Mildred was at
his side.

She saw the letter in hia hand, and hope
whispered that it came from Lawrence. But
the Judge soon undeceived her.

"Spitfire," said he, "Bobum writes that
Lawrence is going io Euroije to pet over his
love-sickness. He sails ii\ a few days. But
what the deuce, girl, are you going to faint V

! !!

I ; ' I

MILDRED.

iii

And he wound his arm around her to pre-
vent her falling to the floor.

The last hope was swept away, and,. while
the Judge tried in vain to soothe her, asking
what difference it made whether he were ia
Hnlifr.x or Canada, iuasmuch as she had
pledged herself not to marry him, she an-
BWtTed:

"None, none, and yet I guess I thought
Jie'd come to see me. or write, or some-
thing. Oliver said he would, and the daya
are so dreary M'ithout him."

The Jndge glanced at the hidden drawer,
feeling strongly tempted to give her the let-
ters it contained, buthio temper rose up in
time to prevent it, and muttering to himself
" Hanged if I do," he proceeded to tell her
how by-and-bye the days would not be so
dreary, for she would forget Lawrence and
tind some one else co love.and then he added,
suddenly brightening up, "there'll be some
fun in seeing me plague Bobum. The mort-
gages are due to-day, and the dog has writ-
ten asking for more time, saying he's a
ruined man unless I give it to him. Let
him be ruined ';hen. I'd like to see him ta-
ken down a per; or two. Maybe then he'll
think you good enough for his boy. There,
darling, sit on the lounge while I hunt up
the papers, I'm going up this very day to
Gee my lawyer," and he pushed her gently
from him.

Mildred knew comparatively nothing of
business, but she understood that Judge
Howell had it in his power to ruin Mr.
Thornton or not just as he pleased, and,
though she had no cause for liking the latter
he was Lawrence's father, and she resolved
to do what she could ;n his behalf. Return-
ing to the Judge she s jated herself upon his
knee and asked him to tell her exactly how
matters stood between himself and Mr.
Thornton.

He complied with her request, and when
he had finished, she said:

"If you choose, then, you can give him
more time and so save him from a failure. Is
that it ?"

" Yes, yes, that s it," returned the Judge,
te little petulantly. " But I ain't a mind to.
I'll humble him, the wretch !"

Mildred never called Judge Howell father
except on special occasions, although he had
often wished her so to do, but she*called him
•* father" now, and asked "if he loved her
very much."

" Yes, love you a heap more than you de-
serve, bat 'tain't no use to beg off for Bob
Thornton, for I shall foreclose — hanged if I
don't."

" No, no. You mustn't." and Mildred's
arms closed tightly round his neck. " Lis-
ten to me, father. Give him more

time, for Milly'a sake. My heart is almost
broken now, and it will kill me quite to have
him ruined, for Lawrence, you know, would
suffer too. Lawrence would suffer most.
Won't you write to him that he can have all
the time he wants? You don't need the
money, and you'll feel so much better, for the
Bible says they shall be blessed who foreive
their enemies. Won't you forgive Mr,
Thornton?"

She kissed his forehead and kissed his lips
— she caressed his rough, bearded cheek,
while all the while lier arms pressed
tighter around his neck, until at last he
gaspqd :

"Heavens and earth, Gipsy, you are chok-
ing me to death."

Then she released him, but continued her
gentle pleading un^-il the Judge was fairly
softened, and he answered :

"Good thunder, what can a fellow t^o with
such eyes looking into his, and such a face
close to his own. Yes, I'll give Bobum a
hundred years if you say so, though nobody
else under heaven could have coaxed me into
it."

And in this the Judge was right, for none
save Mildred could have induced him to give
up his cherished scheme.

" 'Tisnt none of my doings though," he
wrote in his letter to Mr. Thornton. " It's
all Gipsy's work. She clambered into my
lap, and coaxed, and teased, and cried, till I
finally had to give in, though it went against
the grain, I tell you, Bobum. Hadn't you
better twit her again with being low and
mean. Ugh, you dog !"

This letter the Judge would not send for a
week or more, as he wished to torment Mr.
Thornton as long as possible, never onca
thinking that ' / withholding it he was doing
a MTong to Mildred. Mr. liiornton was not
without kindly feelings, and had the letter
been received before Lawrence's departure
he might perhaps have explained the whole
to his son, for Mildred's generous interfer-
ence in his behalf touched his heart. Bu*
when the letter came Lawrence was already
on the ocean, and as the days went on, his
feelings of gratitude gradually subsided, par-
ticularly as Geraldine, who knew nothing of
the circumstances, often talked to him of a
marriage between I-awrence and Lilian as
something sure to take place.

"Only give him a little time to overcome
his foolish fancy," she said, "and all will yet
be right. "

So Mr. Thornton, over whom Geraldine
possessed an almost unbounded influence,
satistied his conscience by writing to Mildred
a letter of thanks, in which he made an at-
tempt at an apology for anything he might
have saidderogatory to her birth and parentage

rf^

WHAT rOt.lOWED.

«r

heart is almost
me quite to have
ou know, would
lid Bufifer most.
: he caa have all

don't need the
ch better, for the
scd who forgive
u forgive Mr,

i kissed his lips

bearded cheek,

arms pressed

jntil at last he

f, you are chok*

t continued her
dge was fairly

a fellow c^o with

biid such a face

give Bobum a

though nobody

I coaxed me into

right, for none
iced him to give

^ though," he
tiornton. " It's
bered into my
md cried, till I
it vent against
Hadn't you
being low and

not send for a

torment Mr.

[e, never onp^

it he was doing

irnton was not

pad the letter

le's departure

led the whole

irous interfer.

|s heart. Bu*

was already

[went on, his

subsided, par-

!W nothing of

to him of a

knd Lilian as

to overcome
|d all will yet

|m Geraldine
ed influence,
iig to Mildred
[made an at-
Jig he might
Ind parentage

With a proud look upon her face, Mildred
burned tlie letter, which seemed to her so
much like an iusult, and theu with a dull,
heavy pain at her heart, she went about her
accustomed duties, while the Judge followed
her languid movements with watchful and
sometimes tearful eyes, whispering often to
himself :

" 1 didn't suppose she loved the boy so
well. Poor Milly ! Poor Milly !"

Oliver too said, "Poor, poor Milly," more
than once when he saw how the colour faded
from her cheeks and the briuhtness from her
eyes. His «)wn health, on ttie contrary, im-
proved, and in the autumn he went back to
college, leaving Mildred njore desolate than
ever, for now there was no one to comfort
her but the Judge, and he usually pained her
more than he did her good. All through the
long, dreary New England waiter the was
alone in her sorrow. Lilian never wrote,
Oliver but seldom, for he dared not tiust
himself, while, worse than all, there came no
news from the loved one over the sea, ex-
cept, indeed, toward sprinc, when a Boston
lady who was visiting in May field brought
the runioxir that he was expected back be-
fore long to marry Lilian Veille; that some
of the bridal dresses were selected, she be-
lieved, and that the young couple would re-
main at home, as Mr. Thorutou wished his
son to live with him.

The woman who repeated this to Mildred
wondered at her indlH'erence.for she scarcely
seemed to hear, certainly not to care, but
the storm within was terrible, and when
alone in the privacy of her chamber it burst
forth with all its force, and kneeling by her
bedside she asked that she might die before
another than herself was the bride of Law-
rence Thorutou. Poor, poor little Milly 1

CHAPTER XV.

THK SUN SHININO THROUaU TtlB CLOUD.

The dreary winter had passed away, the
warm April sun shone brightly upon the col-
lege walls, and stealing through the muslin-
shaded window looked smilingly into the
room where two young men were sitting, one
handsome, manly and tall, the other deform-
ed, effeminate and slight, but with a face
which showed that the sufTering endured so
long and patiently had purified the heart
within i.nd made it tenfold better than it
might otlierwise have been. The latter was
Oliver Hawkins, and he sat talUii.g with Ijiw-
rence Tliamton, vho had landed in New Yo: k
tlio prcvio>i8 clay, :;nd had surprised l>;.m halt
an hour liefove l\v coining suddenly into his
room whtii lic rvippo'siid him far away.

Ouring tho entire period of his absence
Lawrerica had heard nothing of Mildred, for
in his letters he had never inent'.oued her

name, and it was to seek some information
of her that he had turned out of his way and
called on Oliver. After the first words of
greeting were over, he said :

*' You hear from Beechwood, I suppose?"
*'• Occasionally," returned Oliver. "Mildred
does not write as often as slic used to do."

"Then she's there yet?" and Law-
rence waited anxiously for the answer.

" There I of course she is. Where did
you suppose she was ?"

Law: ence had in his mind a handsorao
dwelling looking out on Boston Common,
with "T. Hudson," engraved upon its sil-
ver plate, and he fancied Mildred might bo
ihtrc, but he did not say so ; and to Oliver*!*
question, he rather abruptly replied :

"Clubs, I've come home to be married 1"
" To be married 1" and in Oliver's blue
eyes there was a startled look. " Married to
whom 1 Surely not to Lilian Veille? You
would not marry her ?"

'• Why not ?" Lawrence asked, and be
fore Oliver could answer, he continued : " I
must talk to some one, 'Jlubs, and I may as
well make you my father confessor. You
know I proposed to Mildred Howell? You
know that she refused me ?"

Oliver bowed his head, and Lawrence con-
tit ued :

" She gave me no reason for her refusal,
neither did she deign to answer either of the
three letters 1 sent to her, besrging of her to
think again, or at least to tell me why I was
rejected."

"Three letters — she never told me that.
There is surely a mistake," aaid Oliver, more
to himself than to Lawrence, who rejoined :
"There could be no mistake. She must
havo received some one of them, but she an«
swered none, and in despair 1 went away,
believing, as 1 do, that we were all deceived
and she loved another. Wait— listen, he
said, as he saw Oliver about to interrupt
him. "Father and Geraldine always wished
me to marry Lilian, and until 1 learned how
much 1 leved Mildred Howell, 1 thought it
very likely I should do so."

There was a hard defiant expression on his
fact as he said this, and, as if anxious to have
the story off his mind, he hastened on:

" Mildred refused me, and now, though 1
have not said positively thiit I will marry
Lilian, I have given Gtraldine encourage-
ment to think i would, and have made up
my mind that 1 shall do so. She is a centle
umiabie criuUne, a. id though not (piite as
intelleci.ual us 1 could wisn, she will make
me a fi^'thiul, 'ov uig »vifo. Poor little thing.
Do you know Gerrtldme thinks that her mind
has been somewhat aiTected by my proposing
to Mildred, and then going away ?'

Hud it been Judge Howell listening, m*

■^ M

\ i

m[ldr]5:d

stead of Oliver, l.o would undoubtedly have
said :

"Thornton, you're a fool I" but aa it wajs
Oliver mildly iiiterpof od :

"If I reniembor right, her mind was never
very sound."

I^awrcnco did not seem at all angry, bnt
replied :

" I know she is not brilliant, bnt something
certainly has affected her wi';hin the past few
months. She used to writo such splendid
letters as to astonish me, but 8ij|i,ce I've been
in Europe there's a very perceptible differ-
ence. Indeed, the change was so great that
I could not reconcile it until (ieraldine
suggested that her ill-health and shattered
nerves were probably the cause, and then I
pitied her so much. There's not a very wide
step between pity and love, yon know."

Lawrence paused, and sat intently watch-
ing the sunlight ou the lloor, while Oliver
was communing with himself.

"Shall I uiiiie ru'o him, or shall I suffer
him to rush on hJindfolded, as it were? No,
I will not. I .saved him once for Mildred,
and I'll save liim for her again."

Thus decidiui;. Oliver moved his chair
nearer to Law re net ssi'lf, and said :

" Did it ever occur to you that another than
Lilian wrote lu;i- letters— her old letters, I
mean, when she was in Oharlestown, and at
school at Beechwood ?"

"Clubs!" and Lawrence looked him fix-
edly in tlie face. " Who should write
Lilian's letters but herself ? What would you
insinuate ?"

"Nothing but what I know to be true,"
returned Oliver. "Mildred Howell always
wrote Lilian's letters fer her — always.
Lilian copied them, 'tis true, but the words
were Mildred's."

'I Deceived me again," Lawrence hoarsely
whispered. "I forgave tlie first as a sudden
impulse, but this systematic, long-continued
deception, never. Ob, is there no faith in
women ?"

" Yes, Lawrence. There is faith and truth
in Mildred Howell ;" and Oliver's voice
trembled as he said it, for he knew that of
his own free will he was putting from him
that which for tho last few months had made
the world seem l)righter,had kindled a glow of
ambition in his heart, and brought the sem-
blance of health to his pale cheek.

_ Mildred free was a source of greater hap-
piness to him tlian Mildred married would be
—but not for this did he waver, and lest his
resolution should give way, he told rapidly
all that he knew of Lilian's intercourse with
Mildred— all that he knew of Mr. Thornton's
visit to Beechwood— of the promise wrung
from Mildred by cruel insults, and by work-
ijig upon her love for Lilian— of Mildred's

hopeless anguish at first — of her watching
day by day for some word from Lawrence,
until her starry eyes were dim with tears,
which washed the roses from her cheek, t>nd
the hope from out her heart — of her nobl*
interferince to save Mr. Thornton from ruin
— of her desolate condition now, and of tho
agony it would cause her to hear of Law«
rence's marrying another.

Far several minutes Lawrence seemed like
one in a dream. It had come upon him so
suddenly as to suspend his power to move,
and he sat staring blankly at Oliver,
who at last brought him buck to reality by
saying :

"You will go to Beechwood at once T"
" Yes, yes, he answered ; "this very day,
if possible. Clubs, I owe you more than I
can ever repay. You saved me once from a
watery grave, and now you have made me
the happiest of men. I can understand much
which seemed mysterious in father's manner.
I always knew he was ambitious, but I did
not think him equal to this cowardly act.
Marry Lilian ! Why, I woaldu't marry her
were there no other girl in the wide, wide
world ! God bless you, Clubs, as you de-
serve ! I hear the whistle, and if I would
see Mildred before I sleep, I must be off.
Good-bye 1" and wringing Oliver's baud, ka
hurried away.

• • • • ) •

The night train for Albany had jnst gone
from the Mayfield depot, and Judge Howell,
who had come down to see a friend, was
buttoning his coat preparatory to returning
home, when a hand was laid upon his shoul-
der, and a familiar voice called his
name.

" Lawrence Thornton I Thunder, boy f*
he exclaimed. " Where did you drop from ?'*
And remembering how he had set his heart
against the boy, as he called him, he tried to
frown.

But it was all lost on Lawrence, who waa
too supremely happy to think of an old man's
expression. Mildred alone was uppermost in
his thoughts, and following the Judge to his
carriage, he whispered :

"I've seen Clubs ; I know the whole of
father's dastardly act, and I'm going home
with you to see Mildred. I shall marry her,
too, A thousand fathers can't hinder me
now!"

" Pluck !" exclaimed the Judge, disarmed
at once of all prejudice by l^awrenct's fear-
less manner of speaking. *']]oy, there's
nothing pleases me like pluck ! Give us
your hand !" and in that hearty squeeze by-
gones were forgotten ind Lawrence fully
restored to favour. " Nbw, drive liomo like
lightning 1" he said to Finn, as they entered

til

oil
ail

THE SUN SHINING THROUGH THE CLOUD.

[ her watching
rom Lawrence,
lim with teariy
her cheek, »jij
; — of her noblt
niton from ruia
ow, and of tho
' hear of Law-

nco seemed like
upon him bo
)o\ver to move,
<iy at Oliver,
k to reality by

'■ at once T"
"thia very day,
u more than I
ne once from a
tiavo made me
(lerstand much
ther's manner.
ous, but I did
cowardly act.
tlu't marry her
he wide, wide
)s, as you de-
ad if I would
must be oflF.
^ei-'a baud, Jm

had jnstgone
^udge Howell,
a friend, was
' to returning
pon his shou).-
called hi«

under, boy J**
drop from?"
set his heart

n, he tried to

noe, who was
f an old man's
uppermost ia
Judge to his

the whole of

going home

]I marry her,

t hinder me

ge, disarmed
relict's fear-
l>oy, there's
i I Give us
■ squeeze by
wrencc fully
ve homo like
tlioy entered

.^■

r/4

the carriage ; and as fur as possible, Finn
complied with his masters orders.

But ;liirinj? that rapid ride there was suffi-
cient time lor (juestions and explanations,
and before Beech woo<l was reached the Judge
had confess*.", to tlie letters withheld and hli
reabO'ua for withholding them.

" But 1 made amends," said he ; "I docked
the missionaries five thousand .it one time,
ten at another, and C.yfe at another. If you
don't believe it I can show you the codicils,
witnessed and acknowledged, so there'll bo
no mistake."

But Lawrence had no wish to iiseredit it.
Indeed he scarcely heard what the Judge
was saying, for the Becchwcod windows
were in view, and from one *: light was
shining, showing him where Mildred sat,
thinking ot him, perhaps, but not dreaming
how near he was to her.

"You let me manage," said the Judge, as
they ran up tho steps. "If Milly's sitting
with het back to the door, I'll go in lirst,
while you follow me on tiptoe. Then I'll
break it to her as gently as possible, and
when she screeches, as women always do,
I'll be oiF; for you know an old dud like me
would only be in the way."

Mildred was iiitting with her back to the
door, an<l gating rixedly into the lire. She
was thinking of Lawrence, too, and was so
absorbed in her own thoughts as not to hear
the Judge until he had a hand on either
shoulder and called her by name.

•* Did I scare you, Gipsy V he asked, as
she staited suddenly. "1 reckon I did a lit-
tle, for your heart beats like a triphammer;
but never mind, I've brought you something
that's warranted to cure the heart disorder.
What do yoti guess it is !"

Mildred did not know, and the Judge eon-
tinned :

" It's a heap nicer than diamonds ; and I
shouldn't wonder if it hugged you tighter
than /«>•». It stands six feet in its boots and
has raised a pair of the confoundcdest whis-
kers "

He did nrt need to tell her more, for di-
rectly opposite and over the matble mantle
a mirror was hauying, and glancing upward,
Mildred saw what it was that would " hug
her tighter than furs," ami the screech the
Judge had piedicted burst forth in a wild,

1'oyous «.'ry of " l^wreuce, Lawrence— 'tis
.awrcnce 1"

In an instant the Judge disappeared, just
as ho said he would, leaving Lawrence and
Mildred alone, ami free to tell each other of
the long, long dreary days and nights which
had intervtiied since they sat together bo-
iore, just as they were sitting now. Much
Lawrenco blamed her for having yielded to
his father in a matter which so nearly con-

cerned her own life's happiness, and at the
mention of Mr. Thornton, Mildred lifted up
her head from its natural resting-place, and
parting Lawrence's dark hair, said :

"But won't it be wicked for mo to be
your wife. Didn't my letter mean that 1
would never marry you ?"

"No, it didn't," answered Lawrence, kiss-
ing the little fingers which canio down from
his hair. " Yo'o said you would refuse me
and you did, but you never promised not to
make up. / think the making ui» is splen-
iliil, don't you, darling?"

Whether she thougnt so or not, she took
it very '^uietly, and whenever the Judge
looked iii, as ho did more than once, he
whispered to himself :

" Guy, don't he snucj up to her good, and
don't she act as if she liked it?"

"Ten, eleven, twelve, and even one the
qlock struck before that blissful interview
was ended, and Lawrence had completed
the arrangements, which he next morning
submitted to the Judge for his approval
He would go to Boston that day, and would
tell his father that Mildred was to be his
wife on the 20th of June, that being his
birthday. After their bridal tour they
would return to Beechwood, and remain
with the Judge until l.e consented to part
with Mildred — then they would go to Boston
and settle down into the tappiest couple in
the whole world. To all this the Judge
assented, thinking the while that it would
be some time before he Avould be willing to
part with Mildred.

Breakfast being over, he gave Mildred the
letters so long withheld, but she did not care
to read them then. She preferred joining
Lawrence in the parlour, where there was
another whispered conference, which ended
in her looking very red in the face, and
runiiing away up-stairs, to avoid the quiz-
zical glance of the Judge, who, nevertheless,
called after her, asking "whivt that wet spoB
was on her cheek."

" You are a happy dog," he said to Law-
rence, as he went with him to the carriage,
adding, as he bade him cood-bye, "Give
my regrets to
what I said to
ments still."

Lawrence promised compliance, and glanc-
ing up at the window, from which a bright
face had iust disappeared, he said good-bye
again, ancl was driven to tlie depots

Contrary to Lawrciici's exjicclxtion, his
father seemed neither surprised ntk" oilendel
when told what he had done.

"Mian Howell was a nice girl," he said,
"and he Jiad more than once been on the
poiut of confessing to his sou how he had
lullueiuced her decision."

good-bye,
B;>bum, and tell him that
him last fall are my senti-

MILDRED.

The will had wrought a great change in
Mr. Thorntou'a opiniou, and even the beggar
who was some day to claim Mildred as her
daughter, did not seem very formidable
when viewed through a golden setting.
Geraldine, on the contrary, was terribly dis-
appoiuted, and when alone fairly gnashed
her teeth with rage, while Lilian abandoned
herself again to tears and hysterica. Not
long, however, did Geraldiae give way.
She knew that Lawrence did not suspect
her of having anything to do witli Mildred'a
refusal, further than to ask her for Lilian's
scke to give him up, and aa it was for her
interest to keep him wholly blinded, she
aiTected to congratulate lum a second time,^
saying, laughiuglv, "The Fates have de-
«sreed that you should marry Mildred, so I
may as weU give it up and act like a sensible
woman." But when alone with Mr. Thora-
ton she assumed a new phase of character,
fiercely demanding of him if he intended to
sit quietly down and see Lawrence threw
himself away. Mr. Tbornton had ne^er
told her of the will, ne'ther did he do so
now, but he answered hor that it was useless
further tc ppoae Lawrence — that he was
sorry for Lilian, bat hoped her disappoint-
ment would in time wear off. *' Lawrence
will marry Miss Howell, of course,' he said,
in conclusion, " and won't it be better for ua
to make the best of it and treat her with a
ahov of friendship at least. "

"Perhaps it will," returned Geraldine,
whose thoughts no one could fathom. " I
was indifiiant at first that he should treat
Lilian so shametuUy, but I will try tc feel
kindly toward this girl who is to be my cou-
sin, and, by way or making a commence-
meut, I will write her a letter of congratula-
lation."

Mr. Thornton was deceived, so was Law-
rence, and so, indee(\ was Mildred, when,
two days after Lawrences departure, she re-
ceived a letter from Geraldine Veil! e, couched

some use to you. In short, call upon nic asniucU

aa you please, and, whafover you may liavo

thouKlit of me before, plcuae (consider me now aa

" Your sincere friend,

** Gbkaluine Vkillk."

" She is a good woman after all," thought
Mildred, as she carried the letter to the
Judge, who read it over twice, and then
handed it back, saying, "There's bedevil-
ment behind all that. Mark my words. I
don't like those Veilles. I knew their fa-'
ther — as sneaky a dog as ever drew breath. "
But Mildred thought he was prejudiced,
and, after answering Lawrence's letter of
twelve pages, she wrot* a note to Geraldine,
thanking her for her kind otfera, and sayinj^
that very likely she migtit wish for her ser-
vices in the matter of selecting dresses, aa
Boston furnished so much greater variety
than Mayiield.

Swimmingly now the matters progressed.
' Every week found Lawrence at May Held,
I while there seemed no end to the thick let-
ters which passed between himself and M'l-
dred when he was not with her. Lilian, by
some most nn ;iCcountablo means, had been
quieted, auv. wrote to Mildred as of old. Ge-
raldine, too, was ail amiability, and,
having been deputed to select thrt
bridal dress, and, having failed to find
anything in Boston worth looking at, went
all the way alone to JVe?/* York, remaining
there several days, and returning home at
last perfectly elated with ber epccess ! 8unh
a splendid piece of satin as she had found afe
Stewart's — sUch a love of a veil and wreath
as she had purchased elsewhere, and such
an exquisite point-lace as she had bought for
herself at cost, having enlisted in her behalf
one of the tirm of Blank & Co., who had
written for her notes of introductioa to
clerks of different houses, »nd had sometimes
gone with her himself to see that bhe wssn'li
cheated 1

wriitvsn, appar-

in the kindest of terms and
eatly, in all sincerity:

" I was much vexed with you once. Ill con-
fess," tlio, wi'y woman wrole, "fori had so set
my heart upon Lawrence's marrying Lilian that
it was hard to ^ive it up. But I have considered
the matter soberly, and concluded that, wheth'. r
I om wihing or not. Lawrence will Jo a& he
pleases, so prav forgivo me, dear ccnsln that ia
to be. for aTiy thing you may have heretofore dis-
liked iu my conduct toward you. We shall,!
know, be the best of friend i, and I anticipate
nmch pleasure in having you with us. I shall
coax Lawrence to lot no suporlntenJ thefltting-
up of your rooms, and here let me orFer 'ly ser-
w&a m selecting any part of your bi-idal irous-
Bfjau. Don't be afraid l.; irouble me, for, do whai
I miy, I shall consider it merely as atoning fo?
the ill-natured feelings I have cherished tov/ard
you. If you like. I will come out to Buechwood
a few weeks before the wodd ng. I have given
Quito a uuuibor of largo purt'cb and may be of

CHAPTER XVL

i'.\ '■

(,' '. ••...,1 ^'> l

THH EBBISO OF THE TIDB. '

Thdfmishing strok. was given to t^*- hand-
some nuit of rooms intended for the bride,
which Geraldine pronounced perfect, while
even Lilian went into ecstasies over them,
Htjr taste had been consulted in everything,
and a stranger wou'd have easily mistaken
her for the future occupant, so careful was
Geraldine thai she sliould be suited. And
now nothing was wanting t>» complete the
furnidhirfe except Mildred's beautiful piano,
wliich was to come when she did, and with
a self-satisfied expression upon her face,
Geraldine .'ocked the door, and giving the
key to Lawrence said something pleasant to
him of the day whe-i Mrr;. Lawrence Thom-

'■: '■ r' :^ '

THE EBBING OP THE TIDE.

1 upon nic asniuoh
r you may Iiavo
ontjidur uie now aa
ricud,

kLDINlS VEILLK."

'ter all," thought
he letter to the
twice, and then
There's bedevil-
k my words. J

knew their fa-'
er drew breath.**

was prejudiced,
reiice's letter of
ote to Geraldine»
ffers, and saying
vish for her ser-
cting dresses, as

greater variety

tters progressed,
ce at May field,
to the thick let-
himself and W'l-
her, Lilian, by
neans, had beeri
red as of old. Ge-:
imiability, and,

to select thd

failed to find

looking at, went

York, remaining
sturning home at
iT Bi'ccesa ! Such
she had found at

veil and wreath
Inhere, and such
had bought for
ied in her behalf

& Co., who had

introductioa to
id had aometimea

that bhe w?9n'li

VI.

.' i>>\ J. Ill ;
TIDB. ---,,''

ven to t^.- hand*
I for the bride,

perfect, whila
isies over them,

in everything,
easily mistaken
so careful was
be suited. And
tt» complete the
beautiful piano,
e did, ana with
upon her face,
and giving the
hing pleasant to
.awrence Thoin*

ton would first crosa the threshold of her
future liomc.

Two dresomakerij, one with her scissors
fastened to her belt with a steel
chain and the other with a silken
cofd, were hired at an enormous expense
'artil sent to Beech wood, whither the
Lady (JernMine followed them to super-
intend in person the makinf uf the dt-fisses
and the arraiig<'ment8 forthe wedding. With
an Htisp-iti^ig hand the Judge o^^ened his
purHP, bidding Mildred take all she wanted,
and authorizing Geraldine to buy whatever a
l)ride like her was supposed to need. In the
village everybody was more or less engaged
in'talkingoPthe party — WDndetring who would
be invited and what they would wear.
Mothers went to Spi-ingfldd in quest of suit-
dble garments for the daughters, who sneered
at the dry-goods to be fouhd at home. Hus-
batds were bidden to be mepsured for oew
coats. White kids roSo in value, and the
Maytield merchants felt their buBtness stead-
ily increasing as the prejjftrations progressed.
Even Mihlrtid became an object of uncommon
interest, and those who had seen her all her
life, now ran to the window if by ohanoe she
ap])eared in the street, a thing she finally
ceased to do, inasmuch as Geraldine told her
it was'nt quite genteel.

So Mildred stayed at home, where chairs
hnd tables, piano and beds, literally groaned
witli finerj', and where a dozen times a day
the two dressmakers from Boston gave her
fitf, with Gcj-aldine standing by and suggest-
ing another whalebone here and a little more
cotton there, while Miss Steel-chain declared
that ''MiB" Howell's was a perfect form and
didn't need such things at all."

'"She's as free from deformity as most
people, I'll admit," Geraldine would say,
"but one shoulder is a tritife higher than the
other, while she had a bad school-girl habit
of standing on one foot, which naturally
makes her waist wrinkle on one side."

80 Mildrtul was toriured after the most ap-
proved fashion, wondering if they supposed
she was never to have a single thing after she
rvas married, and so were making up a most
unheard of quantity of clothes to be hung
iiway in the closet until they were entirely
out of date.

Now, as of old, Oliver was her refuge when
weary or low spiritod. On the day of LaW'
rcnce's visit to hitti, he liad been found by
one of his companions lying upon the floor in
a kind of faintiug-fit, which left him so weak
that he was unable longer to pursue his
studies, and at last came home to Hepsy, who
declared him to be in "a galloping consump-
tion." Mildred M'as sorry for his dl health,
but she was glad to have him home again ; it
seemed bo nice to steal away from laces, silks,

satins and flowers, and sit alone with him in
his quiet room She wondered greatly at the
change one short month had produced in
him, but she was too happy herself to think
very much of it, and she failed to see how he
shrank from talking with her of the future,
even though he knew nothing could interest
her more.

" I ain't a bit anxious to be mar-
ried," she said to him one night, when
making him her usual visit, "but I do
want to be with Lawrence. I think
it real mean in his father to send
him West just now. Did I till you he's
gone to Minnesota, and I sha'n't see him for
two whole weeks. Then he'll stay -vrith me
all the time till the very day ; but it seems
so long to wait. To thmk I must cat break-
fast, apd. dinner, and supper fourteen times
before he comes 1 It's terrible, Oliver, and
then I've got a fidget in my Irain that some-
thing is going to happen, either to him or to
me— him, most likely. Maybe he'll be
killed. I do wish he hadn't gone ;" and
Mildred's eyes filled with tears as she thought
of Lawrence dying on the distant prairies,
the victim of some horrible railroad disaster.
"But I am not going to borrow trouble,"
she said. " It comes fast enout^h," and ask-
ing Oliver if he should be very, very sorry
wheil she was Mildred Thornton, she trip-
ped back to the house, still bearing with her
the harrowing presentiment that "something
was going to happen."

" I mean to write to Lawrence," she said,
" and tell him to be cr.reful , tell him not
to ride in the front car, nor the last car, nor
the middle car, nor over the wheels, nor iu
the night, and be sure and walk across Sus-
pension bridge when he comes back. "

Satisfied that, if he folio- the directions
implicitly he would ret j ^er alive, she
ran up to her room, W..010 she could be
alone while she wrote the important letter.

Groping about in the dark until she found
the ihatches, she struck a light, and finding
her portfolio, took it to the table, where lay
a singular looking note, sealed with a wafer,
and directed to "Miss Mildred Howell."

"What in the world 1 " she exclaimed,
taking up the soiled sheet of foolscap.
"Where did this come from, and what can
it be?"

, As a sure means of solving the mystery,
i|i8he broke the seal at once, and with a beat-
rang heart r"ad as follows :

" Forgive me. Miss Howell. If I keep still
any lonuer 1 shall, be awful wicked. 1 or'to
have told you who you be long ago, but bein' I
didu't.I must tell you now. I've been hangin'
'round a good while to sec you alone, but
couldn't. 1 came to the door a day or two ago
and^skedfora drink of water, but that wo-
man with the big black eyes was in the kitchen,
and acted as if she mistrusted I wanted to steal

•

H ^

MILDRED.

:j j'

or bhe stiild by watching me (111 I got tired, and
vrcni off without 8C1 In*,' you ui uU. You know
thutold hiitucroKs tho river where there don t
nobody live. Ccnio there lo-moirow Just as it
Is gottlnu; durk, and I will tell you who you be.
I know, for I'm the very one that briin^ yon to
the door. You ain't low-lived, so don t ^o to
worry in' about that ; nnd if you are afraid to
conjo olono, let that Jndws come with you, und
■uy a liltio wayH otF. "Now don't foil to be
ttiere. for it ia ituportaut for you to know.

"E. B,"

For a moment after reading this MiUlreil
■at in a kind of maze. Shu had been so
happy of late that she had ceased to wonder
who she was. Indeed she acarcoly oared to
know, particularly if the information must
come through as ignorant a ohauuel M this
lutter would seem to indicate.

"What ouijht I to do? she

■aid, one moment half resolving
to keep the appointment at the de-
serted hut, as it waa called, and the next
shrinking from doing so with an nndefiQable
presentiment that some great evil would re-
suit. *' I wish Lawrence waa here to go
with me," she thought, but as that could
uot be, she determined at last to show the
uote to the Judge and ask his advice.

*' What the plague," exclaimed the Judge,
reading the note a second time. " Some-
body knows who you arol Brought you her-
self in the basket! Ain't fr^ra a low-lived
familyl What does the old hag meauT No,
no, gipsy. Let her go to grass. We don't
care who you are. It's enough that I've
taken you for my daughter, and that in a
little more than three weeks Lawrence will
take you for his wife. No, no. Let. E. fi.
git in the deserted hut till she's sick of it."

And this he said because he, too, exper-
ienced a most unaccountable sensation of
dread, as if a cloud were hovering over Mil-
dred, darker, far darker, than the one from
under which she had uo recently passed.

" But," persisted IMil Ired, "maybe I
ought to know. I wonder who this woman
is. She says she stopped here once for a
drink, and was frightened off by the woman
with the big black eyes. That must have
been Gtiraldine."

" Did you speak to me ?" asked the lady
in question, who was passing through the
ball, and liad heard her name.

" Don't tell her of the note. Simply ask
•ibcflit the woman," whispered the Judge,
fec'an^ that if anything abontMildredfehoald
J)roT-b *x> he wrons;, he would rather uo one
but themselves sliould know it.

jMUdred co:nprehendcvl his meaning at
•mra^ and, in reply to Gcraldlne, said, "I
fca'Pft a reason for wlstil:>£» to know if you re-
tnenibcT-aii old woman's ■nomine into the
Idiit&hca And asking for water ;> day or two

" Yffs, I remember her well," answere^
fi'craldine, " for she reminded mcso much o*
the city thieves. She asked several ques-
tions, too, about the girl who wa? to bo mar-
riid— which was your room, and all that.
Why? What of ber?"

"Nothing much," returned Mildred, "llow
did she look ?'

"Like a witch." answered Gcraldine.
"Tall, spare, angular, with a pock-marked
face, a siugle long tooth projecting over her
under lip, and a pokinj{ black oonaet I
thought I saw hei <'oing down the road just
at dusk to-night, bu ~^ight have been mis-
Uken."

Mildred turned pale at the very idea of
having ever been associated with such a crca.
ttti-^. or of meeting her alone at the deserted
hut, and she was trying to think of somo ex-
ouao to render Geraldine, for having thui
questioned her, when one of the dressmak-
ers oame to the reMue» and called Misi
Yeille away.

"What do ^ra think now?" Mildred
asked of the Judge, when they were alone.

" Think as I did before," ho replied. "We
won't go near the hag. We don't want to
know who you are."

"But," and drawing nearer to him, Mil-
dred looked wistfully in his face ; " but
what if I am somebody whom Lawrence
mustn't marry ? Wouldn't it be better to
know it before it's too late ?"

"Heavens and earth, child," returned the
Judge. "Do you think anything can induce
him to give you up. Wouldn't you marry
him if he waa anything shoi1) of a nigger I"

This remark was suggestive, and Mildred
chimed in :

" I'll ask Rachel about that woman. She
■aw her, toa"

Hurrying off to the kitchen she found the
old ne^ress, M'hose story agreed exactly with
Geraldine's, except, indeed, that she des-
cribed the strancer as worse.looking even
than Miss Veille had done.

"I saw such a person in the avenue to*
night," said Luce, who was present, while
her little child six years old testified stoutly
to having seen a woman with a big bonnet
in the lower hall.

" Thinks she'll get some money," growled
the Judge, when Mildred repeated this to
him ; "but we'll cheat her. If she knows
who you are, let her come boldly and tell,
aud not entice you into the woods. There's
bedevilment somewhere."

But all his cfTorts were fruitless to eon*
vince Mildred. The more she thought of it,
the more excited she grew, and the mors
anxious she became to meet a person wlit>
could tell her of | her parentage — of her
mother, maybe ; the mother she had u«*or

well," »n«were*J
rtcd ine so much o*
e<l several ques-
ho wa.3 to bo mar*
and all that.

THE DESERTED HUT.

Ill

idMiUred. "How

vfored Geraldine,
li ft pock-marked '^
ojectiui< over her
black bonnet I
3WU tho road just
it have been mis-

the very idea of
I with such a crca>
ne at the deserted

thmk of soino ex-
, for having thus
of tho dressmak-
, and called Miss

now?" Mildred
they were alone.
" ho replied. "We
We dou't want to

loarcr to him, Mil*
a hie face ; " but
f whom Lawrence y,
I't it be better to
e?"

liUl," returned the
iiything con induce
mldu't you marry
Dit of a nig{?or I"
itive, and Mildred

that woman. She

len ehe found the
greed exactly with

ed, that (the des*
vorse-Iooking even

in the avenue to*

vas present, while

d testified stoutly

with a big bonneA

money," growled
repeated this to
er. If she knows ,
ie boldly and tell,
woods. There's

*c fruitless to con.
she thought of it,
cw, and the mors
leei a person wlio
parentage — of her
ler she had u«t'or

known, b'^. tJld «lt earned of many and many
a time.

"Oo to bed," the Judge said at last.
•*You'll ffcl iliflerontly in the morning."

Mildred obeyed bo far as going to bed was
concerm-d, but the mornin|< found her more
impatient than she had been the previous
night, and not even Oliver, to wnom she
confided tho story, had tho power to quiet
her. Cio to the deserted hiit slie would, and
if the Judge would not accompany her she
would go alone, she said.

80 it wiia at last decided that both the
Judge and Oliver should act as her e8cort,by
means of insuring her greater safety, and
then, with a, feverish restlencss, Mildred,
counted tho litgying hours, taking no inter-
est in anything, not even in the bndal dress,
which was thi.i day finished and tried on.

Very, very beautiful shft looked in it,'with
the orange blossoms resting amid the braids
of her nut-brown hair, but she scarcely heed-
ed it for the terrible son.ething which whis-
pered to her continually :

" You will never wear it — never."

Then as her vivid imagination pictured to
her the possibility that that toothless hag
might prove to be her mother, and herself
lying dead in the deserted hut just as
she surely should do, her face grew so white
that GeraLline asked in alarm what was the
matter.

"Nothing much," she answered, as ehe
threw otT the bridal dress. "I am low-
spirited to-day, I guess."

"You'll have a letter to-night, maybe, and
that will make you feel better," suggested
Geraldine.

"I hope BO," returned Milly, and fearful
lest Geraldine, whom all the day she had
tried to avoid, should speak again of the
woman, she ran off up-stairs, and indulged in
a good, hearty cry, glancing often over
her shoulder as if afraid there was some
goblin there to rob her of her happi-
ness.

Never once, however, did she wavor in her
resolution of going to the hut, and just after
the sun went down she presented her-
self to the Judge, asking if he were
ready.

"Ready for what? Oh, I know, that wild-
joose chase. Yes, I'm ready."

And getting his hat and cane, they

itarted, stopping for Oliver, who even

riien tried to dissuade Mildred from
going.

But he could not, and in almost unbroken
■ilence the three went on their way, Mildred
a little in advance, with a white, stony look
in her facc,as if she had made up her mind to
bear the worst, wiiatever it might be.

. - , CHAPTER XVII.

THE IJKHEhrEU HUT.

It was a tumble-down <)ld slianty, which
for many years had beirn uninhabited save by
tho bats and the swallows, >\hich darted
through tho wide c.iinks in the crumb-
ling wall, or plunued down the dilapi-
dated chimney, tilling tho weird ruin
with strange, unearthly sonds, and procuring
for it the rujjutation of beint; haunted ground.
The path loading to it was Ton^ luid tedious,
for alter leaving the river bhuge, it wound
around the base of a hill, 'ueneath the huge
forest trees, which now ni tho dusky twi-
light threw their grim sha.lows over every
near object, and insensibly ail'ected the
spirits of the three who came each moment
nearer and nearer to the hut

"There, Clubs and I will stay here, I
guess," said the Judge, stopping beneath a
tall hemlock, which grew withiu a dozen rods
of the building.

Mildred made no answer, but moved
resolutely on until she had crossed
the threshold of the hut, wher^ she
involuntarily paused, while a nameless reel-
ing of terror crept over her, everything
around her was so gloomy and so still.

In the farthest extremity of the apartment
a single spot of moonlight, shining through
the rafters above, fe^i upon the old-fashioned
cupboard, from wi.iui two rat , startled by
Mildred's steps, sprang out, and, running
across the floor, disappeared in the vicinity
of the broad stone hearth. Aside from this
there was no sign of life, and Mildred waa
beginning to thmk of turning back, when a
voice, between a whisper and a hiss, came
to her ear from the dark corner where tho
shadows lay deepest, and where a human
forn» crouched upon the floor.
• "Mildred Howell," the voice Raid, "is
that you ?"

Instantly Mildred grasped the oaken
mantel to keep her from falling; for, with
that question, the human form arose and
came so near to her that the haggish face
and projecting tooth were plainly visible.

"You tremble," the figure said; "but yon
need not be afraid. I am not here to hurt
you. I loved your mother too well for
that."

There was magic in that word, and it un-
locked at once tho daughter's heart and
divested it of all fear. Just then the moon
passed from under a cloud, and through a
paneless window, shone full upon the eager,
expectant face of the beautiful young girl,
who, grasping the hand of the strange old
woman, said, imploiir.gly :

" Did you really know my mother — my
own mother?"

"■^ua," returned the woman; "I knew

•<

• I

MILDRED.

her well. I was with her when ahe died.
I laiil hor in the ciiHin. I followed her to
th« ^ruvo, c-trrying you in my arms, and
thou I dill with you wliat she bade nieilo—
I laid you at Juiljjo IIowi'll's door, and stood
watching in the rain until ho took you in."

She spoke rapidly, and, to Oliver, who
had drawn so near that he could distinctly
hear the whole, it seemed as if she were re-
peating some lesson learned by rote; but
Mildred had no such thought, and, pressing
the bony arm, she asked :

"But who am I? What is my name!
xVlio was my father? and am I like roy
mother ?"

"That's what I've been trying to make
out," returned the woman, peering closer
.'nto her face, and adding, after a minnte
survey : "Not like her at all. You are
more like the ITowells ; and well von may
be, for your poor nior.her wore her knees al-
most to the bone praying that you might re*
semhle them."

" Then I am a Howell !— I am a Howell I
and Richard was my father 1 Oh, joy, joy !"
and the wild, glad cry went ringiog through
the yhostly ruin, as Mildred thus gave vent
to \N-liat ahe had so long and secretly cherished
in her heart.

" Mildred" — and in the old woman's
voice there was sometliing which maile the
young cirl shudder — " tliere is not a droo of
Howell blood in all your veins ; but look !"
and drawing from hor skinny bosom a worn,
soiled letter, ahe held it up in the moonlight,
saying : " This your mother wrote two days
before she died. It does not belong to you,
for it is intended for your grandfather. I
promised to give it to him, should it ever be
necessary for him to know ; but you may
re.ad it, girl. It will explain ihe whole
better than I can."
'' "How can I read it here?" Mildred
asked, and her companion rei-lied by striking
.•^ match across the hearth, anil lighting a bit
ot candle, which she brought from the depths
of her pocket.

Holding it between her thumb and finger,
she said :

" You see I've come piepared ; but sit
down, child. You'll need to maybe, before
you get through," and she pushed a block of
wood toward Mildred, who sat down, while
■all through her frame the icy chills were
running, as if she saw the fearful gulf her
feet were treading,

" Tell me first one thing," she said,
grasping the woman's drt.-ss, *• Tell me, am
I greatly inferior to Lawrotine Thoi-ntoii ?"

Oh, that horrid, horrid smile, which
liroke over the r)ld liag'* face, nud made the
v> 10 lonir tooth seem atarting from the
9. ui veiled gums, aa ahe replied :

" You

or. fully Lftwrtuc« Thor-^itoni

pipia"

" Then I can bear anything," said Mildred j
and opening tho letter bIic proHtied to hir
lipa tn» dulicatc, though rather uneven
handwriting, said to havu been hor mother's.

It was dated in New York, nearly eigh-
teen yeara before, and its contouta wore as
follows :

"Dear, Dkar FATnicn :— Thousrh you cast
oientf and turned mo from your door, you are
very dear to mi' ; and sliould Ihone lines evrr
ooMte to you, pn\y think kindly of the errinn
child, whoso fault was lovin« one so unworthy
of \\PT, for I did lovo Cliarli*', and I love him vet,
altliuuRh he has cruelly (lesertcd mo just when
I needed his caro lh«i most. Father, I am dylnK ;
dying all alonu In tliis great city. Charlie is lu
New Orleans, Kuinblini;?, drlnlcing and utterly
forgetting iwi, who gave up everything lor
him.

"On the plllow»be8lile \n< lies my little girl-
baby; and when 1 look ai her I wish that I
might live, but, as that cannot ho, I muat do for
her the best I can. Charlie said to me when ho
wont away, that after baby was born he should
come back and talte her from mc, so us to ex-
tort money from you. and ho would do It, too,
if he had an opportunity, but I'd rather see her
dead than un(u.r his wicked influence; bo I
shall put her where he cannot Hnd her.

"Onoe, father I thouKht to send her to you,
but the remembrance of your words : * May you
be cursed, and your children,' was ringing in
my ears, and I said, * he shall not have a chance
to wreak his vengeance on my child. 8t rangers
will be Itindor far tiian mv own flesh and blood,'
HO I have resolvi d to send her to Judge Howell.
'Tis a queer place, but I can think of nothing
belter, lie is alone in his great house, and who
knows but lie may adopt her as his own.

" I have called her Mildred, too, praying
earnestly tlint she may look like Mildred of the
starry eyes and nut-brown hair, for that would
soften the od Judge's heart toward her. 1 have
written to him an anonymous letter adkin^hlm
to take her, and when I am dead, faithful
Esther Bennett, who is nursing me. will take it

and my baby to in Mahie, where her sister

lives. There she will mall me letter, and
whether the Judge answers it or not, she will in
a short time secretly convey Milly to his door,
watching until some one takes lier in.

"Then she will look after my child, and If in
coming years circunistuuces arise which seem
to make it necessary for Mildred to know her
Ptircntage, ahe will seek )icr out, tcU her who
she ia and carry you this letter. You may think
me crazy to adopt this plan, and so, perhaps, I
am. But my husband, who is her lawful pro-
tector, shall not have her, and as I do not caro
to burden you with HawU'u's brnts, as you onrn
termed any children which I might have, I shall
send it to lleooliwood.

"My strength is falling me. faihcr, and in a
day or so I .sliall bo dead. I wish I could sec you
all once more, particularly Lnxrrcnce, my darlini,-
IxtUii brother Ltiwrance. ]!;iby looks some like
him, I tliiiik, and should shcevor coino to you,
bid him lovo his little niece for his dead sister
Helen's sake "

Mildred could not read another line--

there was a sound like tlio fall of many

waters in her ears— the blood seemed curd-

! -i'lii in her veins, and her very flngcr-tipi

■^

lice Thornton ■

;," Raid MiMred ;
Itr»!H«cd to her
rutlior unovcii

Ktii lit!!' muther'H.

)rk, nearly eigh-

uontuiitti woru ad

'houjjh yoii cast
jiir door, you aro
IhcHO lines evrr
dly of the errlnn
one BO unworthy
.n<l I love hlui tpi,
;cd Mio ju8l when
thor, I am dyinR ;
lly, Charlie Is 1:»
ikinfir and utterly
p evurythiog lor

II08 my little rflrl-
hcr I winh that I
ho. I muHt do for
id to mo when he
iia horn he should
I mc, HO ns to ex-
would do It, too,
I'd rixlher see her
I influence; 80 I
And hcT.

9cik1 her to you,
wordH : * May you
,' was rinKinpr in
not have a chance
' child. Strangers
n flesh and blood,'
' to Judge Howell.
\l think of nothing
It house, and who
.8 his own.

red, too, praying

ke Mildred of the

lir, for that would

ward her. 1 have

letter adkinphim

m dead, failhfnl

g me. will take it

where her slater

zne letter, and

or not, she will in

Mi lly to his door.

Iicr in.

.y child, and If In
irise whif^h seem
died to kfiow her
out, tell her who
'. You nmy thinlt
md so, porhapH, I
is her lawful pro-

_ us I do not earn
brnts, as you onra
liij'ht have, I shall

- fill her, and in a
isli I could sec you
ur.nce. my darlini,'
y looks some Ilka
I'Vfi- fouio to yen,
'or his dead sister

another line--
ho fall of many
)d seemed curd-
very Ungcr-tipk

THE tieskrt::!) hut.

tiuqitsd with one horrid, maddening thought.
" l^awreurt; -1/in'reiice — little niece," she
iiiuMiiud.and wicii oyoi black as midnight,
and facu of a marble hue, she turned to the
«u|»M8cripti*iii, whioli she had not obsfrved
litfforo, reading as sho expected :

"fiOBEnT TiiORNToy, Eiq.,
Boston, Mass."

•• Oh, TTeaven !" «h« cri«d roc|ting to and
fro, ''Isn't it a dream. Isn't there some
mistake? Toll mo. dear, good woman, tell
IMC, is it truo?' and in her unutterable
a^ony slia knelt abjectly before the witch-
like creature, who answered back :

" Poor, poor Milly, It is truo. All trOe,
or I would not come here to save yoa from
a marriage with vourmother'i brother —your
own uncle, girl.

"Stopl" and Mildred screamed with
anguish ; " I will not know that name. Oh,
Lawrence, Lawrence, you are surely lost to
nie tor ever and ever 1"

Tlioro Wiis a rustling movement, and then
Mildred lay with her face upon the threshold
of the door.

" Hurry up. Clubs, for Heaven's sake.
I've stuck a confounded stub through my
boot," cried the Judge, limping with pain,
as he went wheezing to the spot ^hich
Oliver had reached long before him.

From his position beneath the window,
Oliver had iieard the entire conversation, but
nut knowing the contents of the letter, he
was at a loss to comprehend how Lawrence
Thornton could bo Mildred's uncle. Senie<
thing, however, had affected her terribly,
he knew, for there was no mis-
tnking the look of hopeless suffering
stamped upon the rigid face he lifted
gently UD and rested on his arm.

"Wha't is it. Clubs? Whafa the row?
Let me take her," and the panting
Judge relieved Oliver of the fainting
girl, whom ho held carefully in his arms,
talking to her the while «n his own peculiar
way. "There, there, honey. Wh.at is it?
Come to a little, can't yon? Open your
eyes, won't you? and don t look so much as
though you were dead." Then feeling for
her pulse, ho screamed; ' She is dead.
Clubs! She is dead! and you, old long-toothed
madame," sbakini? his list at the old hag
Esther Bennett, "you killed her with some
blasted lie, and I'll have you hnog up by the
heels on the llrst good tree I tiod. Do you
hear?"

Having tlw.^ relieved his mind, the excited
Judge carried Mildred into the open air,
which roused her for a moment, but when
she saw Esther Bennett she sank back again
into the same death-like swoon, moaning I
faintly ; |

•'Oh, Lawr«!nce, liawrencc,
" No he ain't — no he ain't, '1

lost forever t**
said the Judge,
but his words fell on deaf earn, and turning
to Oliver, who had been hastily reading the
letter, ho asked what it was.

'• Listen," and in a voice which trembled
with strong emotion, Oliver read it through,
while the Jndge's face dropped lower and
lower until it rested upon the cold, white
forehead of Mildrctl, who lay so helpless i|
his arms.

" Dob Thonitoii'a grandchiM," he whis-
peretl. "Bob Thornton's grandchildl Must
I then lose my little Milly?" and great
tears, such as Jud^e Howell only could shed,
foil like rain on Mildred's face.

" There may bo some mistake,** suggested
Olivor, and catching at ouce the idea, the
Judge sworo roundly that there was a mis*
toke. " Needn't tell him ; blamed if he'd
believe that 'twa'n't some big lie ^nt up by
somebody for something," and turning to the
woman he demanded of her tavagoly to con*
fess the fraud.

But Esther Bennett answered himt

*• It is all true, sir; trnel I am sorry novr
that I kept it so long, for I never wanted to
harm Miss Helen's child. Sure she has a
bonny face, but she'll die, sir, lying so long
in that faint."

This turned the channel of the Judge's
thoughts, and, remembering that not fa(
away thure was a little stream, ho arose, and,
forgetting his wounded foot, walked swiftly
on, bidding Esther follow, as he wished to
question her further on the subject. Tothia
she did not seem at all averse, but went
with him willingly, answering readily all the
questions which Oliver put to her, and ap«
pearine through the wholo to be sincere la
what she said. The cold water which they
sptiuklcd copiously on Mildred's face and
neck lestoredher for a moment, but, with a
shudder, she again lay back in the arms of
the Judge, who, declaring her as light as a
feather, hobbled 00, givinf^ her oecasionally
a loving hug. and whispering, as he did sot
"Hanged if they make mc believe it. Bobnm
don't get her alter I've mado my will, and
all that."

By the drawing-room window Gerald ine was
sitting, and when, by the moonlight, she savr
tlie strange procession moving up the Cold
Spring path, she \vcnt out to meet it, asking
anxiously what had happened.

"Clubs can tell you," returned tho Judge,
hurrying on with Mildred, while Oliver
explained to Geraldine what he knew, and
tLeu referred her to Esther Bennett for any
further information.

•'Is it possible I" exclaimsd Geraldine,
while m her eyes there was a glitter o'

MILDRED. '■] 1 i r

^^i

1 l:

flelight, ns slio fell back with Esther^ ami
began :v inubt CiVaciit conversation.

Carryini{ Mililiotl to lier rjoni, Judge
Howell laid lier upoti the bed as gently as if
Jihe had been an infant, anu tJieu bent over
hfir until she came fidly back to coupi lous-
tteas and asked him where she was.

"Ob, I remember now 1" shw said. "A
hor:-ld tiling came to me dowa in the but,
luid .La'Nvrenco ia lost for ever and ever !"

" No, he ain't ; it's all a blasted lie 1" said
the Jiulgc, and ipstautly on Mildred's face
ther.! broke a smile of such joy that 01iver>
who had entered the room, cried on r :

"It's cruel to deceeive her ao. Judge
HoMell, until we know for certain that the
woman's story ia false."

Like a hunted deer Mildred's eyes turned
from one to the other, reading everywhere a
confirmation of her tears, and, with a low,
piereing cry, she nioaued :

"It's true, it's true 1 he is lost forever I
Oh, Oliver J can't you comfort me a little ?
You never failed me before ; don't leave me
liow when 1 need it the most ! " and
she wouud her arms convulsively round his
neck.

Oliver had his suspicions, but as he could
give no reason for theva he wonld not rouso
hopes M'iiich might never be realized, and he
orty answered tluough his tears :

" I would like to comfort you, Milly, if I
conld ; but I can't— I can't !"

•• Mildred I" It wa^ GeraUUne who spoke,
and Mildred involuntarily shuddered as she
heard the voice. "Uncle Kobert once saw
the woman who took care of Cousin Helen,
and talked with her of Lis daughter and the
baby, boll: of whom she declare<l to be dead.
Had we not better send for him at once, and
■ee if 1)0 rcmenbjrs this creature, '* nodding
toward Ksther Bennett, who had aldo entered
the room. " He surelv cannot mictako her if
he ever saw her once.

OH or looked to see ae haj: make some
objections, but, to his Burpiinc, she said
Wigetly.

"Yes, send for him. He will remember
me, for lie came to New York just three days
after I left tlie baby at this door. Ho is a
tall man, slightly bald, with black cyos,
and co.it bu black hair, then beginning to be
gray."

Mildred groaned as did Oliver, for the
uescri|)ti(iii was accurate, whihs even tlio
Judgo 1)1 ought his list down upon the table,
taying :

•'B'lli to 1 dot 1 but hanged if T believe
it! We'll telegraph though .'a the uiorn-
ing."

The result of the telcgrnni w.ns *'..'it at a

fiO hour tho next night Mr. Thornton rang

the bell a. 3eechwood, asking anxiously why
he had been sent fur in such liastc.

" Because, " answered the Judge, who
mot him tirst, "maybe you've a grand*
child upstairs, and maybe you hain't '"

"A grandchild," gasped Mr. Thornton, all
manner of strange fancies Hitting through his
brain. "What can you mean ?"

By this time Gerahline appeared, and
hastily explaining to him what lja<l occurred,
she asked " if he could identify the

too'

,-re

Helen in New

woman who
York?"

"Yes, tell her from a thousand, but not
now, not now," and motioning her uway, Mr.
Thornton covered his face with his hand, and
whiipered faintly, "Mi/ grandchild 1 My
Mildred 1 Thatbeautilul ereatt re Helen's
child !" and with all his softer feelings awak-
ened, the heart of the cold, stern man yearned
toward the young girl he had once alTected to
despise. "Poor boy," he said, as he thought
of Lawrence, " 'twill be terrible to him, for
his whole soul was bound up in her. Where
is this won^an ? There may be some mistake.
I trust tht.-e is, for the young i-coide'ssake,"
and the generous feeling thus displayed 8we{>t
away at once all animosity from the Judge's
heart.

"Describe her first as nearly as you can,"
said Oeraldiue, and after thinking a monent
Mr. Thornton replied :

"Tall, grizzly; badly maiked v»ith small-
pox, and had then one or more long teeth in
front, which gave her a most iiaggish ap-
pearance. "

"Twe same, the same !" dropped from
Oliver's lip's, while tho Judge, too, re-
sponded :

"It's all almighty queer, but blasied if I
believe it t"

At Mr. Thornton's request, Esther Bennett
came in, and the moment his eyes foil upon
he", he said :

" Tis thrf woTTfik I saw ciglitecp years ag«.,
I cannot be m^dtaken u that. "

"Question her," %\ lijsf ercd Gf raldine, who
seemed quite excited iu the matter, and Mr.
Thornton did question licr, but if she
were deceiviug them slic hail learned
her lesson well, lor no air.ount of cross-
questioning could iu<'.aco her to commit
herself.

Ind.^ed she seemed, in spite of her looks,
to bo a senaible, straightforwanl woman,
who was doing what she full to be her
duty.

"She had never lost aij^ht of Mi!dred," sho

Raid; "and ktioving that .Tiidm- Howell had

adopted her, she had cnncUniid i.n to divulge

* he secret until shelicard ll;at slm w .••s to marry

I Ljiwreucc. But have you n.ad the letter?'

THE DESTCKTED HUT.

g anxiously why

luislc.

he Jutlge, who

3u'vc a grand-

m hain't \"

[r. Thornton, all

;ting through his

,)>

appe!\red, and
at liad occurred,
I iden'afy the

Helen in New

gnsand, but not
ng her away, Mr.
itii Ilia hand, and
;randc"iiild 1 My
L'leatnre Helen's
:er feelings awak-
tern man yearned
d once affected to
id, aa he thought
nihle to him, for
I) ill her. Where
be some mistake.
iig |.c(>] lie's sake,'
s displayed swept
from the Judge's

irly as you can,"
linking a mo.nent

vked vvith small-
ore long teeth in
uost iiagfeish ap-

dropped from
Jud^e, too, re-
but blasted if I

|t, Tsthcr Bennett
is eyes foil upon

feghtccr years ag«.,

fc."
[d Geraldine, who

matter, and M:'.
iier, Imt if she
lie had learned

iip.niint of cross-
her to commit

>ito ><i her looks,

[,[01 w an I woman,

felt to be her

of MiMred,"she

iiilm' liowell had

]i(d I'" to divulge

|t slit! m;s to marry

n\ul ilio letter ?'-

she asked. "That will prove that I am not
lying. "

••Surely," chimed in Geraldine. "I had
f'irgotteu that," and she handed to Mr.
Thornton his daughter's letter, which he
read tliroiit^h, saying when he had finished :
" It is Helen's handwriting, and it must
be true."

Tiien passing it to the Judge he asked if
it resembled the letter he received from the
Maine woman.

" Good thunder, how do I know," return-
ed the Judge. " I tore that into giblets. I
can't rometnber eighteen years ; besides
that, I'm bouml not to believe it, hanged if
I do. I've made up my mind latterly that
Gipsy belonged to Dick, and I'll be blamed
if 1 (lou't stick to that through thick and
thin."

But whatever the Judge might wish to
believe, he was obliged to confess that the
evidence was against him, and vjicn at an
early hour the no.xt mo-ning tlio four assem-
bled again for consultation, he said to Mr.
Thornton :

" Yoii want to seo your granddauglitcr, I
suppose ? "

"Id like to, yes," was tho reply, to which
the Judge responded :

" Well, come along, though hanged if I
believe it."

From GeraMine, Mildred hiul learned
what Mr. Thornton had said, and tiiat he
would probably wisli to see her in the morn-
ing. This swept away the last lingering
hope, and Avitli a kind of nervous terror she
awaited his visit, wcmbling when she
heard him in the hall, aud looking fearfuK,'
round for some means of escape.

"Here, M illy," said the Judge, lustling
up to her and forcing a levity he did not
feel, " here's your yraml^atlier come to see
you."

"No, no, no," sobbed Mildred, creeping
closer to the Judge and hiding her white
face in her hands.

" There, f^il)um," said the Judge, smooth-
ing her disoidored hair and dropping a tear
upon it. *' You see she don c take very
kindly to her new grnndad. Better give it
up, for I tell you it's a big lie. '

"Mildreil," said Mr. Thornton, seating
himself upon the side of the bed, and tak-
ing one of the little feverish hands in his,
" there can be nc doubt that what we have
heard is true, and if so, you are my chiM,
aud as such very dear to me. You are
young yet, darling, and though your disaj)-
|)ointment, as far as Lawrence is concerned,
iR terrible, you will overcome it in time.
The knowini^ he is your uncle will help you
iio to do, and yon will be happy with us yet.
l>ju't you thi'iii so, dear ! "

" Bobum, you've made a splendid speech,"
returned the Judge, when he had huished.
"Couldn't have done better myself, but it
fell upon stony ground, for look," and lift-
ing up the beautiful head, he showed him
that Mildred had fainted.

"Poor girl, poor girl," whispered Mr.
Thornton ; and the tears of both of those
Lard old men dropped on Mildred's face, ai
they bent anxiously over her.

It was, indeed, a dreadful blow to
Mildred, for turn which way she would,there
fJioue no ray of hope. ^ Even Oliver deserted
her as far as comfort waa concerned, for he
had none to offer.

A day or so brought Lilian to Beechwood
— all love, all sweetness, all sympathy for
Mildred, whom she comined twenty times an
hour, and who shrank from her curessca just
as she did from both Geraldine and Mr.
Thornton.

" Oh, if I could go away from here for a
time," she thought, " I might get over it,
perhaps ; but it will kill me to see Lawrence
when he comes. I can't, I can't ; oh, isn'l
there somewhere t«) go ?"

Then, buddenly remcmbeting that not long
before she had leceived an invitation to visit
a favourite teacher, who was now married
and lived in a hotel among the Now Hamp>
shire hills, she resolved to accept it and go
for a few weeks, until Lawrence returned
and had learned the whole.

'* I shall feel better there,*' she paid to the
Judge and Oliver, to whom she communicated
her plan. " Mrs. Miller will be kind to me,
and when its all over here,and they are gone,
you must write, and I'll come back to stay
with you forever, for I won't Ii\e with Mr.
Thornton, were he one hundred times my
grandfather!"

This last pleased the Judge 10 mnch that
he consented at once for Mildred to go say-
ing it would possibly do her good. Then,
repeating to himself the name of the place
where Mrs. Miller lived, he continued :

" What do r know of Dreftden ? Oh I ret
member. Hetty Ivirby is buried there.
Hetty Kirby ; Hetty T^irby." He looked
as if there was something more ho would say
of Hetty Kirby,but he merely added: "May-
bo I'll come for you myself. Once he
glanced at iiis swollen foot, which had been
badly hurt on the night of his visit to the
hut, and was now so sore that in walking he
waa obliged to use a crutch.

"I'd rather go alone," said Mildred, and,
after a little further conversation, it waa ar*
landed that in two days' time she should
start for Dresden, first apprising Mrs. Miller
by letter of all that had occurred, and ask-
hur to say nothing of the matter, but ttpcak

mmm

1, I i '!■;;;

Il'-f

I '

V i ■

I'l

I i

■ • J }

MILDRED.

of her as Miaa Hawleij, that being the name
to which she supposed herself entitled.

This being satisfactorily settled, Mr. Thorn-
ton and Geraldine were both informed of Mil-
dred's intentions.

" A good idea," said Geraldine. "Change
of place will do her good, but I think Lily
and I had better remain here until Lawrence
arrives. A letter will not find him now,aud,
as he intends stopping at Beechwood on his
return, he will know nothing of it until he
reaches here. "

The Judge would rather have been left
alone, but he was polite enough not to say
so, though he did siiggest that Esther
Bennett, at least should leave, a hint upon
Which she acted at once, going back to
New York that very day.

Mildred would rather that Geraldine and
Lilian too should have gone, but as this
could not be, she stipulated in their presence
that Oliver and no other should break the
news to Lawrence — "he would do it so
cently," she said, and she bade him say to
Lawrence that " though she never could for-
get him, she did not wish to see him. She
could not bear it, and he muse not come after
her."

Oliver, promised compliance with her re-
quest, and the next morning she left Beech-
wood, accompanied by Mr. Thornton, who
insisted upon going with her as far as the
station, where she must leave the cars and
take the stage to Dresden, a distance of ten
miles. Here ho bade her G;ood-bye, with
many assurances of affection and good-will,
to none of which Mildred listened. Her
heart was too full of grief to respond at once
to this new claimant for her love, and she
was glad when he was gone and she alone
with her sorrow.

CHAPTER XVin.

THE GUE.STS AT TUB HOTEL.

"Where will you bo left, miss ? " asked the
good-humoured driver, thrusting his head in
at the window of tho coach, in one corner of
which Mildred sat, closely veiled and shrink-
ing as far as possible from obsci vatiou.

"At tho Stevens Hotel," she answered,
and the driver returned:

" Oh, yes, Stevens Hotel. I have anotb«ir
passenger who stops there. Here ho come.., '
and he held open the door for a remarkably
lluo-looking man, who, taking tho scat op-

?08ite Mildred, drew out a book in which for a
ime he seemed wholly absorbed, never look-
ing up, except once indeed when a fat old
woman entered and sat down beside him,
saying, as «he sank puffing among the
cushions, that " she shouldn't pester him
long— she was only going a mile or so to visit
her daughtor-in-law. who had twins."

Involuntarily Mildred glanced at thegentle-
man, who, showing a very handsome set of
teeth, again resumed his book, while she
scanned his features curiously, they seemed
to her so familiar, so like something she had
seen before.

" Who is he ?" she kept asking herself,and
she was about concluding that she must have
seen him in Boston, when the stage stopped
again before one of those low-roofed build-
ings so common in New England, and the fat
old lady alighted, thanking the gentleman
for holding the paper of anise-seed and cat-
nip, which all the way had been her special
care.

Again the handsome teeth were visible,
while the stranger hoped she would find tho
twins in a prcap?roas condition. On the
green in front of the house a little child was
waiting to welcome grandma ; and Mildred,
who was fond of chudren, threw back her
thick brown veil to look at it, nor did sho
drop it again, for the road now wound
through a mountainous district, and in her
delight at the wild, picturesque scenery
which met her view at every turn, she for-
got that she was not alone, and when at last
they reached the summit of a long, steep
hill, she involuntarily exclaimed :

"Isn't it grand?"

''You are not accastoined to mountainous
views, perhaps," said the stranger, and then
for the first time Mildred became conscious
that a pair of soft, dark eyes were bent up-
on her with a searching, burning gaze, from
which she intuitively shrank.

Ever since her veil had been removed that
same look had been fixed upon her, and to
himself the stranger more than once had
said, "If it tvere possible ; but no, it cannot
bo ;" and yet those starry eyes and that nut-
brown hair, how they carried him back to
the long a[^o. Could there be two individu-
als so much alike, and yet nothing to each
other ? Some such idea pas&cd through his
mind as he sat watching her bcautiu.l face,
and determined at last to (picstion her, he
addressed her as wo have seen.

"Yes, I am accustomed to mountain
scenery, " sho replied, "vl'.agh not as grand
as this."

" Were yon born among tho Now "Rnj;-
land hilis V" was tho next qneation put to
her, and tho answer waited for, oh, so eager-
ly.

For an instant Mildred hesitated, while
the hot blood stained her face rnd neck, and
then she replied :

"I was born in New York City," while
over the fine features of the gentleman op-
posite there fell a shade of disappointment.

Mildred had interested him strangely j

THE GUESTS AT THE HOTEL.

•ed at the gentle-
handsome set of
ook, while she
ly, they seemed
nething she had

king hersclf.ond
it she must have
e stage stopped
wroofed build-
and, anu the fat
[ the gentleman
se-seed and cat-
been her special

th were visible,
e would find the
idition. On the
a little child was
a ; and Mildred,
threw back her
it it, nor did she
)ad now wound
strict, and in her
turesque scenery
ry turn, she for-
and when at last
of a long, steep
imed :

d to mountainous
tranger, and then
became conscious
Ires were bent up-
rning gaze, from
k.

een removed that
upon her, and to

than once ha«l
mt no, it cannot
yes and that nut-
ricd him back to
be two individu-
t nothing to each
as&cd through his
cr beautiiul face,

(jucation her, ho
een.

icd to mountain
i;^h not OS grauil

ig tho Now Eng-
question put to
for, oh, so eager-

hesitated, while
ace f nd neck, and

^ork f'ity," while
le gentleman op-
disappointment.

i him strangely {

and with a restless desire to know more of
her history, he continued :

•* Pardon me, miss ; but you so strongly
resemble a friend 1 have lost that I would
like to know your name ?"

Again Mildred hesitated, while the name
of Howell trembled on her lips, but reflect-
ing that she had no longer a right to it, she
answered :

" My name, sir, is MissHawley.**
Something in her manner led the stranger
to think she did not care to be questioned
further, and bowing slightly he resumed his
book. Still his mind was constantly dwel-
ling upon the young givl, who met his curioai
glance so often that he began to feel uneasy,
and was glad when they stopped at last at
the Stevens Hotel. The stranger helped her
out, holding her dimpled hand in his for a
single moment, and looking down again into
the dark bright eyes, as if he fain ''vould read
there that what he had so long believed was
false. He knew that he annoyed her, but he
could not help it. Every movement which
she made mystified him more and more, and
he looked after her until she disappeared
through the hall and was admitted to
the chamber of her friend and former
teacher.

Unfortunately M''S. Miller wag sick, but
she welcomed Mildred kindly as MissHawley,
and talked freely with her of the disjBvery
that had been made.

" You will feel better after a time," she
said, as she saw how fast Mildred's tears
came at the mention of Lawrence Thornton.
" Your secret is safe with me and my hus-
band, and no one else knows that you ever
had claim to another name than Hawley* I
am sorry that I am ill just at this time, but
I shall be well in a few days, I hope.
Meantime you must amuse yourself iuany way
you choose. I have given orders for you to
have the large front chamber looking out
upon *.ne village. The room adjoining is
oceup <jd by a gtntleman who came here yes-
terday moruing, intending to stop for a few
days. He ia very agreeable, they say, and
quite a favourite in the house."

Mildred thought of her companion in the
«tage, and was about to ask his name, when
a servant appeared, offering to show her to
her room. It was one of those warm, languid
days in early Jane, and Mildred soon began to
feel the effects of her recent excitement and
wearisome ride in the racking headache which
came on so last as to prevent her going down
to dinner, and at last confined her to the bed,
where sho lay tho entire afternoon, falling
away at last into a deep, quiet sleep,
from which about sunset sho awoke greatly
refreshed t\nd almost free from pain. Ob-
•erving that her door was open,* she was

wondering who had been there, when her oar
caught a sound as of some child breathing
heavily, and turning in the direction whence
it came, she saw a most beautiful little girl,
apparently four or five years old, perched
upon a chair near the window, her soft
auburn curia falling over her forehead, and
her face very red with the exertions she was
making to unclasp Mildred's reticule, whiqh
she had found upon the table.

As a carriage rolled down the street, she
raised her eyes, and to Mildred it seemed as
if they were looking once more upon the face
which had so often met her view when
she brushed her own hair before the cracked
glass hanging on the rude walls of the gable
roof.

" Is it my other self?" she thought, pass-
ing her hand before eyes to clear away the
mist, if mist there was. ** Isn't it I as I
used to be T"

Just then the snapping apart of the steel
clasp, and the child's satislied exclamation
of "There, I did it," convinced her that
'twas not herself as she used be, but a verit-
able mass of flesh and blood, embodied in
as sweet a face and as perfect a form as she
ever looked upon.

" I will speak to her," Mildred thonght^
and involuntarily from her lips the word
"Sister" came, causing the child to start
suddenly and drop the reticule, with which
she knew she Lad been meddling.

Shaking back her sunny curls, which now
lay in rings about her forehead, and flashing
upon Mildred a pair of eyes very much like
her own, she said :

" How you did stare at me I Be you waked

"Come here, won't you?" said Mildred,
ho''')"g out her hand ; and won by the plea-
sant voice, the little girl went to her, and
winding her chubby arms around her neck,
said :

" Is you most well, pretty lady ? "

Mililred answered by kissing her
velvety cheek and hugging her closer to
her bosom, while over her there swept a
most delicious feeling, as if the beautiful
creature, nestling so lovingly to her side,
were very near to her.

" Where do you live ? " she asked ; and
the child replied :

" Oh, in the ship, and in the railroad, and
everything."

"But Where's your mother?" continued
Mildred, and ovsr the little girl's face there
flitted a shadow, as she replied :

"Ma's in heaven, and pa's downstairs
smoking a cigar. He ties awful hard some-
times. "

" Have you any sisters ? " was the next
interrogatory ; and tho answer was :

MILDRED.

fit

'• I're got ono in heaven, and a brother,
too — 8o pa says, I never seen the sister,
but when ma died, and they lifted me up to
look at her in the box, there lay on her arm
a little teenty baby, not so big as dolly, and
they put thorn both under the grass, over
the sea, ever and ever and ever so M'ays off,"
ind she pointed toward the setting sun, as
if «he thus would indicate the vast distauce
between herself and h'er buried mother.

*' You came from over the sea, theu ? "
returned Mildred. " Will you tell me what
you name is ? "

"Edith Howell. What is yours?" and
Edith looked inquiringly at Mildred, who
started suddenly, repeating :

" Edith Howell ! Edith Howtll ! and did
your father come in the stage this morning?*'

"Yes," returned the child. " He went
off in it before I was up, and brought me
Old Mother Hubbard. Don't you want
to see her ? " and Edith ran to
her own room, while Mildred clasp-
ed her hands to her head, which
seemed almost bursting with the conviction
wliich the name of Edith Howell had forced
upon her.

She knew now where she had seen a face
like that of her stage companion. She had
seen it in the pleasant drawing-room at
Beechwood, and the eyes whicli had so puz-
zled her that morning had many and many a
time looked down upci» her from the portrait
of liichard Howell.

" 'Tis he, 'tis he," she whispered. " But
why is he here instead of going to his
father?"

Then, as she remembered having heard
how Richard Howell had cared for her.
shielding her from the Jmlge's wrath, and
how once she had dared to hope that siie
might be his child, she buried her face m the
pillow and wept aloud, for the woild seemed
ao dark — so dreary.

^ " What you tie for, pr«tty lady?" asked
little Edith, returning to her side, laden with
dolls and toys, and Old Mother Hubbard,
which last Mildred did not fuJIy appreciate.
*' What is your name?" Edith said again, as,
mounting upon the bed, she prepared to dis-
play her treasures.

"Milly Hawiey;" and
trembled so that the child
took tb.e word for Minnie.

'* Minnie," she repeated.
I lovo you, Minnie Has\ k-y
her waxen hand, she biuslicd the tears from
Mildred's ey»s, asking again why she cried.

At first ^lildred thought to correct her
with regard to her name. Then, thinking it
was just as well to be Minnie as anything
else, she let it pass, for without any tangible
reason save that it was a sudden fancy, she

Mildred's voice
very easily mis-

" That's pretty.
," and putting up

had determined that if the handsome strange r
were Richard Howell, he should not kuuw
from her that she was the foundling left at
his father's door. She had always shrunk
from hearing the subject discussed, and it
seemed more distastetul to her now than
ever; so on the whole she was glad Edith
had misunderstood her, for Millij might have
led to some inquiries on the rart of Richard,
if it were he, inasmuch as his mother and
sister had borne that rather unusual name ;
so, instead of replying directly to the child,
she said, " Let us go over by the window
where the cool breeze comes in," and cather*
ing up her playthings, Edith went with her
to the sofa, and climbing into her lap asked,
•• Where's your ma, Minnie ? "

" She's dead," was the reply.

" And is your pa dead, too ? "

Ere Mildred could answer this a voice from
the hall called out:

" Edith! Edith! where are you ?"

" Here, pa, here with Minnie. Come and
see her," and bounding across the floor, the
active child seized her father's hand and
pulled him into Mildred's room.

" Excuse mo. Miss Hawiey," he said.
"Edith is very sociable; and I am afraid
you find her troublesome."

*' Not in the least. I am fond of children,"
returned Mildred, taking the little girl again
upon her lap, while Mr. Howell sat down
by the other window.

He was a very handsome man, and at first
appearance seemed to be scarcely thirty. A
closer observation, however, showed that
he was several years older, for his rich browu
hair was slightly tinged Avith gray, and there
were the marks of time or sorrow about his
ey^H and forehead. In manner he was un-
coninioiily prepossessing, and a few minutes
suflioed to put Mil.lred entirely at her ease,
with one who had evidently been ac-
customed to the society of high-bred, culti-
vated ppople.

*' Edith tells me you come from England,"
she said at last, by way of aacertaininjt
whether he really were Richard Howell or
not.

" Yes," he replied, " I have lived in Eng-
land for several years, though I am a native
Anierican and born in Boston. "When six
years old, hovever, my father removed to
Mayfield, where he is living now."

" What for you jump?" asked Edith, as
Mildred started involuntarily when her sn-
spicions were thus conti.-nifd.

Mr, Howell's eyes seemed to ask the same
question, and bowing her face over the curly
head of the child, so as to conceal her tears,
Mildred answered :

"I have been in Mayfield several time?,
and know an old gentleman whose son went

THE GUESTS AT THE HOTEL.

nrlsomoBtrangor
hould r.ot know
onudling left at

always shrunk
isuussed, and it

her now than
ras glad Edith
nili/ might have
;)art of Ki chard,
bis mother and
unusual name ;
:ly to the child,
by the window
in," and cather-

went with her
> her lap asked,

Iv.

)?"

his a voice from

you?"

iiie. Come and

S3 the floor, the

hcr's hand and

)m.

^Ify," he said.

lid I am afraid

nd of children,"
) little girl again
iwell sat down

an, and at first
cely thirty. A
fallowed that
r his rich browu
gray, and there
orrow about hia
ner he was un-
a few minutes
ely at her ease,
tly been ac-
igh-bred, culti-

rem England,"

)f ascertaininc

rd Howell or

e lived in Eng-
I am a native

on. AVhen six

cv removed to

low."

sked Edith, as
when her sn-

3 ask the same
over the curly
iceal her teara,

several time?,
hose so*i w^ent

rt^

off many yaars ago, and has never been
heard of since."

'* VVliat makes youty?" persisted Edith,
who felt tlie drops upon her hair.

" I was tliinking, " returned Mildred,
"how gl.'ul that old man will bo if your
father is the son he has so long considered
dead.'

Mr. Howell was gazing fixedly at her.

"Miss Hawley," he said, when she had
finished speaking, "who are you? — that is,
who are your parents, and why have you
boen in May Held?"

Mildred knew that her resemblance to his
lister puzzled him just as it did every one,
and for a moment she was tempted to tell
him everything ; then, thinking he would
learn it fast enough when he went to Beech-
wood, she replied :

" My mother was Helen Thornton, of
Boston, and my father, her music teacher,
Charles Hawley, who died in New Orleans
■oon after I was born."

Mr. Howell seemed disappointed, but he
replied :

"Helen Thornton your mother? I re-
member her well, and her marriage with Mr.
Hawley. You do not resemble her one-half
so much as you do my sister Mildred, for 1
am that old man's son. I am Richard
Howell."

c«T"..gpy one who ever uaw your sister
speaks of the resemblance," returned Mild-
red. " Indeed, my old nurse says my mother
was veiy anxious that I should look like
her, and even used to pray that I might.
This may, perhaps, account for it."

''It may — it may," Richard answered ab-
stractedly, pacing up and down the room ;
then suddenly turning to Mildred he asked :
"When were you in Mayfield, and how is
my father now ? Does ho look very old ?"

Mildred did not tell him when she was in
Mayfield, but merely replied that "his father
was well, and that for a man nearly sixty-
five he was looking remarkably young."

"And the negroes?" said Richard;
"though, of course, you knew nothing of
them, nor of those people who used to live
in that gable-rcofed house down the hill.
Thompson was the name."

Here was a chance for explanation, but
Mildred cast it from her by simply answer-
ing :

"Old Mrs. Thompson lives there yet with
her club-footed grandson, Oliver Hawkins,
whose mother was probably living when you
went away. "

Spite of her resolution, Mildred lioped he
would ask for the baby next, but he did not.
He merely walked faster and faster across
the floor, while she sighed mentally : " He
has forgotten me, and I will not thrust my-

self upon hia remembrance."

At last the rapid walking ceased, and
coming up before her, Mr. Howell siid :

"It seems strange *o you, no doubt, that
I have purposely absented myself frcm hume
so long, and in looking back upon the past,
it seems strange to me. I M-as very unhappy
when I went av. ay, and at the last I quarrel-
led with my father, who, for a farewell, gave
me his cursn, bidding me never come into his
presence again. If you know him at all,you
know he has a fiery temper. To a certain
extent I inherit the same, and with my pas-
sions roused I said it would be many years
before he saw my face again. Still, I should
have returned had not circumstances occur-
red which rendered it unnecessary. I wrote
to my father twice, bat he never answered
me, and I said 'I will write no more.' For
three years I remained among the South Sea
Islands, and then found my way to India,
I'lierc, in the excitementof amassing wealth,
I gradually ceased to care for anything in
America. At last I made the acquaintance
of a f"^r young English girl, and making her
my wife, removed with her to England,
where, little more than a j'oar since, she
died, leaving me nothing to love but Edith.
Then my thoughts turned homeward, for I
promised Lucy, when dying, that I would
seek a reconciliation with my father. So I
crossed the ocean again, coming first to
Dresden, for this wild, out-of-the-way place
is connected with soni" of the sweetest and
saddest memories of my life. In a few days,
however, I go to Beechwood, but I shall not
apprise my father of my return, for I wish
to test the instincts of the parental heart,
and see if he will know me.

" I have told you so much, Miss Hawley,
because I know you must think strangely of
my long absence, and then there is
something about you which prompts me to
wish for your good opinion. 1 mioht tell you
much more of ray life — tell you of an error
committed in boyhood, as it were, and in
manhood bitterly regretted — not the deed
itself, but the concealment of it, but the sub"
ject would not interest you."

Mildred could not help fancying that the
subject would interest her, but she did not
say so, and as Mr. Howell just thenohsarved
that Edith had fallen asleep in her arms, he
ceased speaking and hastened to relieve
her. The movement awakened Edit)., who
insisted upon sleeping with Minnie, as she
called her, v

"Yes, let her stay with mc,"8aid Mildred,
"8h<> is such an aflfectionate little thing that
she seenia almost as near to me as a
sister. "

"You are enough alike to bo sister.?.
Did you know that ? " Mr. Uoweil

n !

MILT^IJED.

askeil, and MiUlred blushed painfully as
ahe met tho aumirmg gaze fixed upou her so
intently.

Hu was thinking what a beautiful pioture
they made— the rose just bursting into per-
fect loveliness, aud the bud so like the rose
that they might both have come from the
same parent etenL

" Yes,
tinned,

eyes.

he con-
and your expres-
is like her English

,, Edith hai yonr
"your mouth
sion, but otherwise she
mother."

He bent down to kiss the child, who had
fallen asleep again, and had Mildred been a
little younger he might perhaps have kissed
her, too, for he was au enthusiastic admirer
of girlish beauty, but as it was, he
merely bade her good-night and left the
room.

The next morning Mildred was roused by a
pair of the softest, fattest, chubbiest hands
patting her round cheeks, and opening her
eyes, she saw Edith sitting up in bed, her
auburn curls falling from beneath her nap and
herself playful as a kitten. Oh, hoM' near
and dear she seemed to Mildred, who hugged
her to her bosom, calling her "little sister,"
and wishing in her heart that somewhere in
the world she had a sister as gentle, and
pretty, aud sweet, as Edith Howell.

That afternoon, a.s Mildred sat reading in
her room, she saw a carriage drive up to the
door, and heard Edith's voice ia the hall,
saying to her father :

'* Yes, Miuuie must go — Minnie must
go.

A moment after Mr. Howell appeared, say-
ng to her :

"We are going to ride, Miaa Howell, and
on Edith's account, as well as my own, shall
be glad of your company. I shall visit the
cemetery for one place, and that may not be
agreeable, but the reuiaiuder of the trip I
think you will enjoy."

Mildred knew she should, and hurrying on
her bonnet and shawl, she was soon seated
with Mr. Howell aud Edith in the only decent
carriage the village alForued.

"To the graveyard," said Mr. Howell,
in answer to the d liver's question, "Where
shall I drive you tiist?" and after a
rapid ride of a mile or more they stopped
before the gate (tf the enclosure where slept
the Dresden dead.

Holding Editlrs hand in hers, Mildred
followed whither Richard led, and soon stood
by a sunken grave, unmarked by a single
token of love, save tho haudaomo* stone, on
A\hich was iiiscribed

"HErrv K. Howeu,,
Aged 19."

"Hetty Howell ! " repeated Mildred.
" Who ic(i^ she f" And she turned io.iuiringly
totvardd [\i:hai°d.

He was standing with folded arms and b
most touchingly sad expression upon hisface.
but at her question he started, and unhesi-
tatingly answered, ** Hetty Kirby vxu my
wife."

Mildred had incidentally heard of Hetty
Kirby at Beechwood, but never that she was
Richard's wife, and she exclaimed, in lontie
asttmishment :

"Your wife, Mr. Howell t Were you then
married when you went away ?"

"Yes," ho answered; "and the concealment
of it ia one of my boyhood's errors which 1
regret. I mamed Hetty without mv father's
knowledge and against his wishes. He knew
I loved her, and lor that he turned her from
his door and bade me forget her. But 1 did
not. With the help of a college friend I
went with her over the Bay State line into
New York, where we were soon made one.
After a week or so she came to Dresden,
where hergrandmother l.ved, while I returned
to college. I saw her as often as possible

after that, until at last " here he paused,

and seemed to be thinking of something far
back in the past ; then he suddenly added,
"she sickened and died, and I buried her
here."

"And did you not tell your father ?" asked
Mildred.

" No, not then, " he answered, " but
I told him en the night I went
away, and it was for this he curseil
we.

J'here M-ere tears in his eyes, and they
came also to Mildred's as she thought of poor
Hetty, and how much she must have loved
her handsome boy- husband. Insensibly, too,
there crept over her a strange atFeotion for
that grassy mound, as if it covered something
which she had known and loved.

"There are no flowers here," she said,
wishing to break the painful silence ; and
when Richard answered, sadly, "There has
been no one to plant them," she cintinued,
"I shall remain in Dresden some time, per-
haps, and I will put some rose trees here and
oover the sods with mosSi"

"Heaven bless you. Miss Hawley," and in
that silent graveyard, standing by Hetty
Kirby's grave, Richard Howell took the
hand of Mildred aud pressed it to his
modestly, gently, as if he had been
father.

" Tome, pa. Less
said a dor.en tinics,
her importunities,
walked slowly
still, chained
fascination.

" Tome, Minnie— tome," called Edith, aud
roused thur; .rom her revtrieonthe unknown
Hetty Kirby, Mildred f<;llo\ved on to the
carriage, whereMr. Howtll was waitiugforher.

lips
her

had
to

doc, " Edith
and yielding
Mr. Howell
away, but Mildred lingered
to the spot by a nameless

noAv

^&i

LAWRENCE AND OLIVER.

folded nrms and a
ission upon higface.
irted, anH nnhesi-
tty Kirby v>a» my

y heard of Hetty
never that she was
^claimed, in some

t Were you then
ay?"

id the concealment
's errora which J
Mthoutmv father's
wishes. He knew
I turned her from
t her. But 1 did
college friend I
y State line into
! soon made one.
ame to Dresden,
1, while I returned
often aa possible
"here he paused,
of something far
suddenly added,
nd I buried her

ur father ?" asked

answered, «* but
night I went
this he cursed

eyes, and they
e thought of poor
iiust have loved

Insensibly, too,
ige affection for
vered something
ived.

lere," she said,
ul silence ; and
h'f "There has

she caitinued,
some time, per-
se trees here and

law]ey,"and in

Ung by Hetty

•well took the

it to his lips

had been her

" Edith had

yielding to

Howell now

ildred lingered

hy a namckss

illed Edith, and
>n the unknown
wed on to the
1 waitiugforher.

Down the hill, up another, round a curve,
over a stream of water and down the second
long steep hill they went, and then they
stopped again, but this time at a deserted old
lirown building, whose slanting roof had
partially tumbled in, and whoso doors were
iipou to the weather, being destitute of latch
or bolt. Through a gate half off the hinges
tlicy wrnt, and going up a grass-grown path,
they passed into a narrow entry, and then
into a side room, where the western sun
came pouring in. Here Mr. Howell stopped,
and with his hand upon his forehead, stood
loaning against the window, while the great
tt'ars di'oppfid through his Hugcrs and fell
u pnii the old oak floor. Mildred saw all this
iiud needed nothing more to tell her that
tliey stood iu the room where Hetty Kirby
died.

Oh, Mildred, Mildred — if she could have
k iiown, but she did not. She only felt stealing
over her a sr-cond time the same sensation
v.liioh had come to her at Hetty's grave —
a feeling as if every spot once hallowed by
lletiy Kirl)y'8 pre=ienco were saured to
her, and when at last they left the ruinous
uM house, she looked about for some me-
mento of tlie place, but everything had run
♦i> -wa^to, save one thrifty cedar growing in
,. corner of the yard. From this she broke
a t'.vig and was thinking how she would pre-
serve it, when Ilichard touched her arm, and
Koid :

"T planted that treo myself and Hetty
held it up while I put the earth about it."

The cedar bough was dearer far to Mildred
now, and slie stood long by the evergreen
thinkir.g how little Hetty dreamed that
such aa she Avould ever, be there with
Hicliard at her side, onct a fairy creature
froliekingover the grass, the child of another
than herself.

" Tf she had left a daughter how Richard
wouLl have loved it," eho thought,
mid through her mind there flitted
tlie wild fancy that it would
)e happiness indeed to call him
f.ither aud say sister to young Edith, who
vii-1 now pulling at her dress, telling her to
(.(inio away from that old place. "It isn't
a-< pretty," she said, "as ma's home over the
sea. for there Avero fountains aud trees and
fl.iwers there."

Mildred oould not forbear smiling as the
little uirl rattled on, while in listening to
her prattle even Mr. Howell forgot his sad-
iiesr. and i)y the timo they reached the hotel
he was apparently as cheerful as ever.

'i'he next morning he was .slightly indis-
posed, and Mildred kept Edith with her the
entire day. I'he morning following he was
prill worao, and for two week? he kept
his room, while Mildred took charge of

Edith, going occasionally to his bedside, and
reading to him from books which he selected.
Never for a moment, however, did she for-
get her gnawing pain, which, as the days
advanced, seemed harder and harder to bear,
and when at last the morning came on which
she was to have been a bride, she buried her
face in her pillows, refusing to be comforted,
even by little Edith, who, alarmed at her
distress, bf ^ged of her father to come and
cure Minnie, "who did ty so hard."'
A severe headache was the result of this

f)assionate weeping, and all the morning she
ay upon the hed or sofa, almost blinded
with pain, while Edith's little soft hands
smoothed her aching head or brushed her
beautiful hair. Once Richard, who was better
now, came to the door, offering to do some*
thing for her, and suggesting many remedies
for headache. Very gratefully Mildred
smiled upon him, but she could not tell him
how the heart was aching tenfold harder
than the head, or how her thoughts wer«
turning continually toward Beechwood, from
which she had received no news, she having
bidden them not to write until Lawrence,
Geraldine, Lilian and all were gone; then
Oliver was to tell her the whole.

As he had not Avritten, they, of course,
had not gone, and fearful that something
terrible had happened, her anxiety and ex»
citemeut seemed greater than she could
bear.

CHAPTER XIX.

••' lAWBEXCK AND OLIVER.

Contrary to Mildred's expectatimis, j^aw-
rence had reached Beechwood earlier than
the time appointed. And on the very day
when she in Dresden was standing with
Richard Howell by Hetty Kerby's grave, he
in Mayliekl was listening with a breaking
heart to the story Oliver had to tell. Flushed
with hojje and eager anticipation, as the
happy bridegroom goes to meet his bride,
he had come, thinking all the way of Mild*
red's joy of seeing him so many days before
he had promised to be with her. Purposely
he chose the back entrance to the house,
coming through the garden, and casting
about him many anxious glances for the
flutter of a pink muslin robe, or the swing-
ing of a brown straw hat. But he looked
in vain, for Mildred was not there. Hop-
ing to find her in the library alone, he
kept on, until he reached the little room,
where instead of Mildred, the Judge
and Oliver sat together, talking sadly
of her. At the sight of lAwrence
both turned pale, while the former inv Jun-
tarily exclaimed, "Oh, my boy, my boj. '

In aa instant Lawrence knew that somfr

MILDRED.

thing had happened, \nA fjtaspiuc; the
Judge's hand, ho cried : "Slie isn't dead?
In pity ttU inc, is she dead ?"

"No, not dead," answered the Judge ;
*'but listen to Chibs. He promised to break
it to you." And going from the room, he
left the two alone, whde Oliver told to
Lawrence Thornton that Mildred never could
be his wife, because she was his uicce, bhe
child of his own sister.

Every particular of the disclosure was
minutely related, and every hope swopt
away from the horror-stricKcn man, wno
listened in mute despair, until the tain was
tinished, and then with one piercint; cry of
anguish fell upon his face, moi'Ming fain 'y :
"1 would rather she had d ' — I '.d

rati'., r she had died.''

In great alarm, Cfcniiuine, wh htt^A Jcivd
the cry, hastened to the ror i, 1' 'luwci't !,y
Lilian ; but Lawrence scarcely notic them,
otherwise than to shudder and turn away
from Ocraldino when she tried to comfort
him. Once, Lilian, touched at the sight of
his distress, knelt bcforo him, and fulding
her arms upon her lap, begged of him '* not
to look 80 white— so terrible."

But he motioned her off, saying to her :
" Don't try to comfort mo unless yon give
me back my Mildred. Take me. Clubs,
where I can breathe. I am dying in this
stifled room,"

Then into the open air Oliver led the faint-
ing man, while Judge Howell bustled after,
the great tears rolling down his face, as ho
whispered : "They do have the all-firedest
Inck. Poor boy, poor boy — he takes it
harder even than Gipsy did."

And in this tlio Judge was right, for the
blow had well-nigh ci'ushed out Lawrence's
very life, and boiore the sun went down
they carried him to what was to have been
the bridal chamber, a broken-hearted, de-
lirious man, talking continually of Mildred,
who he always said was dead, but never that
she was his niece. For many days the fever
raged with fearful violence, and Mr. Thorn-
ton, who was summoned in haste from Bos-
ton, wept bitterly as ho gazed upon the
flushed face and wild eyes of his son, and
felt that he would die. From the very first
Lawrence refused to let either Geraldine or
Lilian come into the room, while Oliver, on
the contrary, was kept constantly nt his
side, and made to sing continually of Mil-
dred with the starry eyes and cut-browa
hair.

"Sing, Clubs, sincj," he would say, toss-
ing from side to side; "sing of the maid
with the nut-brown hair,"

And all through the silent watches of the
night could that feeble voice be heard, sweet
'C an ancient harp and plaintive as a broken

lute, for it welled up from the depths of an
aching heart, and ho who sang that :!OMg
knew that eauh note was weaiing his life
aw ay.

Thrice Judge Howell. touched with compas-
sion by his pale, sufFcring face, ofTerca to
take his place, bidding Oliver lie down while
he sang of Milly's eyes and hair ; but Law-
rence detected the fraud in an instant. He
knew the shaking, tremulous tone, raised
sometimes to a screech and then dying awry
in a whisper, came from another than Oliver
Hawkins, and his lip curled with supreme
disdain as, raising himself upon his elbow, ^a
said :

"You can't cheat n'*, old IcJlow, and
you may as well ; -"ud Clubs back again."

So poor Clubs went back, staying by him
night and day, until human strength could
endure no more ; and ho one morning
•'"11 forward on the bed, deluging it with
ill-) blood which gushed from his mouth and
nose.

With an almost superhuman efTort, Judge
Howell took him in his arms — gently, tender-
ly, for Mildred's sake — and carrying him
down the Cold Spring path, laid him away in
the little room beneath the gable-roof, where
there was none to sing to him of Mildred,
none to comfort him save Hepsy, whose
homely attempts Avero worse than failures,
and who did him more hurt than good by
constantly accusing Lawrence Thornton of
being the cause of his illness. Indeed, she
seemed rather to enjoj' it when she heard, as
she did, how Lawrence moaned for "Clnks,"
growing daily worse until at last the physi-
cian feared that he would die. This, how-
ever, sbq kept from Oliver, who lay all the
day on his low bed, never seeing but one

Jerson from Beech wood, und that the
udge, who fame at his requeac, and was in
close consultation with him for more than au
hour.

The roault of this interview was a determi-
nation on the part of Judge Howell and Mr.
Thornton to sift the matter of Mildred's
parentage more thoroughly and see if there
were not some mistake.

"Certainly," sa'u Geraldine, whm the
subject was mentioned to her. " I wou'd
leave no stone unturned to test the tiuth of
Esther Bennett's assertion. Only this mom*
ing it occurred (o me that Hannah Hawkins
might have receive I some hint from that old
witch; for I have heard that when ,'he was
dying she tried to speak of Mildred,
and pointed towi-rd Beech wood, I'll
go down to-night and question Mrs. Thomp-
son."

Accordingly that evening found Geraldine
seated in Hepsy 's kitchen and so wonderfully
gracious 'hat tb« oM lady mentally styled

her

LAWRENCE AND OLIVEO.

t)ie (leptha of an
sang that :ioiig
wealing his lilo

0(1 with compas-
face, oflTcrctf to
r lie down while
lair ; but Law-
an instant. He
)us tone, raised
t)icn dying aw/'y
;Iu>r than Oliver
with supreme
ton hia elbow, ^0

f)i(I Icl'.ovr, and
ack again."
staying by him
strength could
! one morning
eluging it with
1 his mouth and

an efTort, Judge
gently, tender-

carrying him
aid him away in
able-roof, where
im of Mildred,
Hepsy, whoso
; than failures,

than good by
!e Thornton of
IS. Indeed, she
in she heard, as
ed for "Clubs,"
- last the physi-
ie. This, how
who lay all the
seeing but one
i9nd that the
tia'c, and was iu
)r more than au

was a determi.
lowell and Mr.
' of Mildred's
id see if there

no, when the
3r. "I wou'd
st tho tiuth of
>nly this mom*
nnah Hawkins
fc from that old
when .'he was
; of Mildred,
ch^vood. I'll
1 Mrs. Thomp-

>und Geraldine
5o wonderfully
entally styled

her a ri;j!l»t nice piil, and Yondercd how she
could ever have called her "nippin*" and
••stiicli-up."

Warily, nautionsly, little by little, step by
step, dill (icraldine auproach tho object of
her visit, throwing; out a hint here and a bait
tl T'i, until, fitiliii^ sure of her subjoct, she
f ' t I out openly, and a^kod old Hepsy "if
i, ha«l any ol>jrctio.i3 to t;dliLg alioprovid-
f. he were vril paid ''or it."

' But, nieroy ! Is there any one who c n
h .r us?" she auded, drawing near to HcM^y,
V, o rei 'ed : "Not a soul," forgetting
. iO while tiie stovo-pipe hole c.t through
the floor of the uhamlf"" above, where Oliver
wau listr .lug n;ii,crly tO the conversaution.

Not one word escaped him, and when it
was linislied ho knew as well as Hepsy that
for fifty dollars and a haU-worn black silk
dress, she was to stain her soul with a
wioked lie — was to say that in rummagina
Hannah '.s things she came across a littlo box,
which had not been spenod since her daugh-
ter's deatiu and which when opened was
found to contain a letter from Esther Ben-
nett, toiling her who the child of her adop-
tion was, but l)iddiug her to keep it a secret
from everybody.

"I liave written to New York to-day,"
said Geraldine, "giving to Esther a copy of
what she is to write and send to me by return
of mail. As I cannot get the New York
post-mark I shall tear off the half sheet
where the superscription naturally would be,
leaving only the body of the letter. This I
shall rub aud smoke until it looks old and
worn, and then bring it to you, who the day
following must find it- in Oliver's presence,
if possible; of course your glasses will not be
handy and you will ask him to read it.
He'll probably tell of it at Btechwood, or if
he does not, you can, which will answer
■Cfuite as well. I can't explain all about the
matter, though I may some time do so, and
I assure you, "dear Mrs. Thomi"?on, that if
my end is secured, I shall be willing to pay
you something extra for your assistance.

Geraldine had spoken so rapidly that
Hepsy had notquitccomprehended tkewhole,
aud clutching her dress she said:

" Yes, yes, but one thing I want to know.
Js Mildred Helen Thornton's child, or is
that all a humbug, got up to stop her mar-
riage?"

Geraldine had not intended to confide the
whole in Hepsy, but to a certain extent she
was rather coinpcllcd to do so, and she an-
swered hastily:

" Yes, all a humbug, and I'll give you
twentv-livc doUars a year as long as you do
not tell."

Hepsy was houffhl, and ofTered to swcav j
oa a " stack of Bibles high as the house " )

that she'd bo silent as tho dead, but Geral-
dine declined tho pleasure of r"ceivinii tho
oath, aud after a few moru remarks, took her
leave.

For a time after «ho was gone, Oliver sat
completely stunned by what ho had heard.
Then tlio thought burst up,n him, " How
delighted Milly will be," ami '\c determined
to be himself the bearer of tho joyful news.
He could write it, he knew, but there might
bt some delay in tho mails and ho would
rather go himself. Geraldine could not
receive an answer from Estlier Beniutt uutil
the second day, and on tho thiid Hepsy
would probably take to Beechwood this new

f)roof of Mildred's parentage. By that timo
le could find Mildred and bringing her
home could confront the wicked plotters
and render their plotting of no avail.
Onco he thought to tell the Judge, but
knowing he could not keep it, ho decided
not to do so. Lawrenre was better that
day — the crisis was p , ♦Ho physicians
said, and having no fca*--: for .'m, he resolv-
ed to keep his secret om ry one. By
going to Springfield tlu- nig/;, oo could take
the early *iva\u ar ' 'O -f-ach Dresden the
next day, a thing he g "-(iv wished to do,
as it was the day '.nee ippoiuted for Mil-
dred's bridal. I. glanced at hia gold
watch, Mildred's ^ , uA saw that it want,
ed but half an hour of the timo when tho
last train was due. Hastily changing his
clothes, and forgetting all about his feeble
health, he went down-stairs and astonished
his grandmother by saying he was going to
Springfield.

"To Springfield 1 " sho screamed, ** when
you can scarcely set up all day. Are you
crazy, boy ? V\ hat are you going there for ?"

" Oh, I know," he returned, aflcctinj; to
laugh. " It's just occurred to me that I
must be there early to-morrow morning, aud
in order to do that, I must go to-night."

He did not wait for further comment from
old Hepsy, who, perfectly confounded,
watched Kim till ho disappeared in tho
moonlight, muttering to herself :

" I've mistrusted all along that he was
gettin' light-headed."

But Oliver's mind was never clearer in
his life, and he hastened on, reaching the
depot just in time for the downward train,
which carried him in safety toSpringfield, and
when next morning Geraldine before her
glass was brushing her je^•black hair, and
thinking within herself how nicely her plans
were working, he was on h s way to Mil-
dred.

Ho did not reach the terminus of his rail-
road route until the Dresden stage had been
gone several hours, aud to his inquiries fo

MILDRED.

I !

i
l!

some other modo «f conveyance, he invaria-
bly received the same answer :

•* Kvery hoss and every waggon has gone
to tho big canip-meetiu' up in the north
woods."

" How far is it to Dresden ?" he asked.

•' A little nhort of ten mile," returned the
ticket agent. "You can walk it easy ;
though I don't know 'bout that," and he
glanced at Oliver's crippled feet. "Maybe
you'll get a ride. There's alius somebody
goin' that way."

Oliver felt Bure he should, and though tho
June 8un was uouring down a scorching
heat, and the roaa to Dresden, as far as bis
eye could trace it, wonnd over hill after hill
where no shade-trees were growing, he re-
nulved to go, and quonching his thirst from
the temptintt'looking gonni hansing near a
\)A\\ of delicious ice*wacdr, ba auiua on hia
way.

CHAPTER XX.

OLIVfR <i.VD 3ULi)i.I3.

Oh, '^hat A weary, weary r-^a \tw%
vindingun and up, and seeming to the tired
and heated Olive; \s if it could never cud,
or Dresden be muoii nearer. Walking was
always to him a slow process, and nothing
but the thought of what lay beyond could
have kept him up and moving on until hia
poor crippled feet were blistered, and his
head was throbbing with pain. Not once
during that tedious journey did a single
jierson pass him ; all were going the other
M'ay, and the heroic Oliver was almost faint-
ing from oxeaustion when,from the brow of a
steep hill, he saw the Dresden spire Hash-
ing m the sunlight, a;id knew he was almost

there.

• • • • .

Mildred was alone in her chamber, her
head resting upon the soft pillows which little
Edith had ananged, her hands clasped over
her forehead, and her thoughts with Law-
rence Thornton, when a servant entered,
bearing a card, and saying that the gentle'
man who sent it was in the parlour below.

"Oliver Hawkins!" and Mildred almost
screamed as she read the nami'. " Dear,
dear Olivei ! show him up at once. "

The servant departed, and in a mor.ent
the well-known step was heard upol the
stairs, and, darting forward, Mildred passed
her arm round him, or he would have fallen,
for he was very weak and faint.

" Mildred, dear Mildred!" was. all he could
at (irst articulate, and,9inki/i7 upon the sofa,
motioned her to remove his saoca irom his
toWolIen ffiet.

" Did yo" - " ^ *t* eStion!" sh?
ask« ', in muciui ^..,«e

" There was ut

"Yes," he whispered,
one to bring me."

'• What made you? Wliat made you T" ilio
continued, rnd he replied :

*• I couldn't wait, for I have come to bring
you joyful news ; to tell you that'you are fret!
to marry Lawrence — that you are not his fa-
ther's grand-child. It was all a wicked fraud
fot up by Geraldine Veille, who would havo
.awrence marry her sister. I heard her
telling grand-mother last night, and hirinj^
her to say she found a paper among my
mother's things contirming Esther Bennett'H
story. Oh, Milly, Milly, you hurt," he
cried, as in her excitement she pressed hard
upon his blistered feet.

Those poor feet ! How Mildred loved
them then I How she pitied and caressed
them, holding them carefully in her lap,
and dropping tears upon them, as she thought
of the weary way they had come to bring
her this great joy — this joy too good to be be-
lieved until Oliver related every particular,
beginning with the time when Lawrence
first came back to Beechwood. He did not,
however, tell her how, day and night, until
his own braiu grow dizzy, he had sung to
the maniac rf the maid with the nut brown
hair, nor diu ho tell her of anything that he
had done, except to overhear what Oeraldine
had said ; but Mildred could guess it all —
could valcrstaud just how noble and self-
denying he had been, and the blessings she
breathed upon him came from a sincere
heart.

"Oh, Oily, darling Oily," she said, still
caressing his wounded feet, "the news is
too good to be tnie. I dare not hope again
lest I bo cruelly disappointed, and I oould
not 1)car another shock, I have sufTered so

much that

heart is almost numb : and

though vou tell mo I am free to marry Law-
rence, I^m afraid there's some mistake, aud
that I am his sister Helen's daughter
after oil. Ii I am not. Oily, who am 1 ?
Who was my mother? where is ahe now?
and where is my father ?"

There wcro tears in Mildred's eyes — once
they choked her utterance as aho said these
last words, which, ncvorlhelcss, wcro dis-
tinctly heard in tho adjoining room where
llichard Howell sat, his face as white as
ashes, his eyes unnaturally bright, and a
compressed look about the mouth as if ho
had received bonio dreadful shock— uomc-
thing which shook his lu.art-8trinsj;8 as they
never were shaken before, lie was reading by
his window when Mildred met Oliver in tho
hall, and through tho optii door ho hoard
diNtinotly the namu "Mildred, dear Mil-
dred !" and lu'ftrd tho yirl ho knew as
Minnie answer to thut nAnio. Then the let-
, tered pago before hirn was oho aolid liur,

ifli

OLIVER AKD MILDRED.

" There waa m
t made you ?" g},,,

lavficome to brini{
u that' you are frci-
Kou are not his fa-
all a wicked fraud

who would havd
•"• I heard her
ght, and hiring'
>aper among my
Esther BennettH

you hurt." ho
alio prcsued hard

Mildred lovod
ied and caressed
uUy in her lap,
m, as she thought
id come to bring
toogoodtobebe-
every particular,
when Lawrence
od. He did not.
and nicht, uutil
he had sung to
I the nut brown
inything that he

r what (jleraldiiie '
id guess it all-
noble and self-
ho blessings she
from a sincere

' she said, still
) "the news in

not hope again
ed, and I i;oul<l
lave suffered so
ost numb ; and

to marry Law-
»o mistake, ni;d
I^n's daughter
y, who am J ?
fe is she now?

id's eyes— once
Bho said theso

less, were dis-

>g room whero

-o as wliite as

'■•right, and a

nouth naif ho
shock— Bomo-

itringa .-xs they

vas reading by

c Oliver in tho

•loor ho heard

'^'^, dour Mi].

ho knew as

Then the Ji-t.

(lu nolid Ijur,

the room around him was envelojied in dark-
ness, aud with his hearing quickened he sat
like a block of stone listoiiiog, listening,
liattning, till every unccrtaiuty was swept
away, and from tho depths of his inmost
soul came heaving up " My child I my Mil-
dred !" But though his heart uttered the
words his lips gave forth no sound, and he
lat there immoveable, while the great drops
of perspiration trickled down his facb and
fell upon his nerveless hands, folded so
helplessly together. Then he attempted to
rise, but as often sank back exhausted, for
the shock had dop:ivcd hint of his streugth
and made him weak as a child.

But when Mildred asked, '• Where is my
father now ? ho rose with wondrous efTort,
Rud tottering to her door, stood gazing at
her with a look in which the tender love of
■ightecn years was all embodied. Oliver saw
faim first, for Mildred's back was toward
him, and to hor ho softly whispered, "Turn
your head, Milly. There's some one at the
door."

Then Mildred looked, but started quickly
when he oaw Ilichard Howell, every
feature convulsed with the emotions he
could not express, and his arms stretched
imploringly toward her, aa if beseeching her
to come to their embrace.

" My daughter, my daughter /" he said, at
last, and though it was but a whisper it
reached the ear of Mildred, andwith a stream
of unutterable joy she went forward to an
embrace such as she had never known be-
fore.

Oh, it was strange to see that strong man
weep as he did over his beautiful daughter,
but tears did him good, and he wept on
until the fountain was dried up, murmur-
ing, "My Mildred — my darling — my first*
born — my baby, Hetty's and mine. %e
Lord be praised who brought me to see your
face when I believed you dead 1" and all the
while he said this he was smoothing her
shiny hair, looking into her eyes, and kiss-
ing her girlish face, so much like his own as
it used to be, save that it was softer and
more feminine.

Wonderingly Oliver looked at them, seek-
ing in vain for a clue with which to unravel
the mystery, but when Mildred, remember-
ing him, at last said :

"Oliver, this is Richaod Howell," he
needed nothing more to tell him that he had
witnessed the meeting between a father and

his child.

To Mildred tho truth came suddenly with
the words, " My daughter." Like a flash of
light it broke on her — the secret marriage with
Hetty Kirby — her strong resemblance to the
Howellg, and all the circumstances con-
u(;uted with her first arrival at Beechwood.

with u cry
laiuer as «•

There could be no iriistahe, mid
of joy slie spriiug to meet her
have described.

" 1 heard what he told you," Richard
said at last, motioning to Oliver. "I htard
him call you Mildred, and from your con-
versation kupw you were the child once left
av my father's door. You were mv darling
baby then ; you are my beautiful Mildrfcd
now," and he hugged her closer in his
arms.

Very willincly Mildred suffered her fair
head to rest upon his shoulder, for it gave to
her a feeling of security she had never before
experienced, for never before had she known
what it was to feel a father's heart throbbing
in unison with her own. Suddenly a new
thought occurred to her, and starting up,
she exclaimed :

"Edith, father, Edith!"

" I'me tomein', with lots of fowcrs," an-
swered a chihlish voice, and Oliver heard the
patter of little feet in the hall.

Inja moment she was with them, her curls
blown ovei her face, aud her white apron
full of tho flowers she had gathered for
Minnie, " 'cause she was so sick. "

"Precious little sister," and Mildred's
arms closed convulsively around the
wondering child, whose fowers were
scattered over the carpet, and who
thought more of gathering them up
than of paying very close attention to what
her father told her of Minnie's being Mildred,
her sister, who they thought was dead.

At last Edith began to understand, and
rubbing her fat, round cheek agaiust Mil-
dred's she said :

" I so glad you be my sister, and have
come back to us from heaven. Why didn't
you bring mamma and the baby with you ?"

It was in vain they tried to explain ;
Edith was rather too young to comprehend
exactly what they meant, and when tiiere
was a lull in the conversation, she whisper-
ed to Mildred :

"I knew most you was an angel, and
some time mayn't I see your wings and how
you fly?"

The interview between Mildred and Edith
helped to restore Richard's scattered senses,
anrl when the wing business was settled, he
said to Mildred :

"Has my daughter no curiosity to know
why I left her as I did, and why I have
never been to inquire for her ?"

"Yes, father," answered Mildred, "I
want so much to hear— but I thought it
might disturb you. Will you tell us now ?"
and nestling closer to his side, with Edith
on her lap, she listened breathlessly, while
he repeated to her what she did not already
know.

MILnUED.

"I liavo told you." ho nnu\, "of my
father's l)ittcriicsii townrJ Hetty Kirby, and
how, M'iLlj tlio help of n comnauion, whom I
coulil triiat, I took her to Now York, oud
wa« maniml, hut I did not toll you how, af-
ter the hipao of time, there waa born to the
hoardlcsa oollcgo boy a smiling little infant.
As soon an po.ssiblo I haatonod to Hetty's
bodHide, but tho shadow c)f death was there
before inc, and ono glance at her sweet
voung face asNurod me that she would die.
Twaa tlien that I regretted having kept our
marriage a secret from my lather, for I felt
that I sliould need his sympathy in the dark
hour coming. Something, too, must be done
with you, 8o soon to be made motherless.
Hetty was tho lirat to suggest disposing of
you as I ilid. SIio knew my education was
not yet cotnnlett. ■ und laying her soft hand
nn my head, slie said : ' My boyhusbaad
wants to go through college, and if it bc-
coni'-'s known that he has been married, those
stern men may expel him. Your father.too,
will turn you off, na soon as he learns that I
liave been your wife. I know how strong
his prejudices are when once they have been
roused, nnd if ho knew our baby had in it a
drop of Hetty's blood, he would spurn it
fnim liim, and so he must not know it. My
grandmother will not last long, and when
we are both dead, eeud baby to )»im secretlv.
D<m't let Jiim know who she is, or whence
she uanie, until he has loatnod to lovo her.
TJicn toll him sho is yours."

"This is wliat Hetty said ; and in an un-
guarded moment I promised to do her bid-
diuj;, for I was young and dreaded my father's
wrath. Not long after this Hotty dicd,with
her baby folded to her bosom, and her lips
murmuring a prayer that Ood would move
the heart of the atera old Judge to care for
her little waif.

"Her grandmother also died in a few
days, ani then, with the exception of the
nurse, I was alone with you, my daughter,
in that low brown Jiouse you visited with
me, 1 little dreaming that the baby who in
that west room Hrsfc opened its eyes to the
light of day was standing there l)esido me, a
beautiful young maiden. Dresden is thinly
populated now; it was far mora so then, and
of the few neigliljours near, none seemed to
be curious at all, and when told tliat I Rhould
take tlic cliild to my own iiouse in Mas-
sachusetts, they made no particular com-
meiits. The same friend, Tom Cliesebro,
wlio had helped mo in my marriage, now
came to my aid again, plauniu? and arrang.
ing the affair, even to the writing that letter,
purportiag to have corno from Maine. He
had relatives living in that vicinity, and as
it was necessary for him to visit them, he
left me a few days, and taking the letter

with him, mailed it at ono of the in<
land towns. When he returned wr started
together to Mayfield, and tolerably well
skilled in the matters to which I waH a novice,
I found him of invaluable Rerviei; in taking
care of you, whom I carried in my arms.
At Springfield he left me, taking you with
him m a uaskct which ho procured there,
and giving you, as he afterward told me,
■ometliiug to make you sloop. I never could
understand exactly how tie contrived to
avoid observation as he did, but ^t was dusk
when he left Springfield, and tho darkness
favoured him. He did not leave the cars at
May Hold, but at the next station got ofT on
tho side remote from the depot and striking
across the fields to Becchwood, a distance of
two miles. He had once spent a vacation
there with me, and hence his familiarity
with the localities. After placing you on
tho steps, he waited at a little distance until
my father, or rather Tiger, took you in, and
then, when it was time, went to the depot,
where I ni t, him as I was stopping from the
car. In a whisper be assurecl me that all
was safe, and with a uomowhat lightened
heart I hurried on.

" To a certain extent you know what fol-
lowed ; know that Hannah Hawkins took
oare of you for a while, while the villagora
gossiped as villagers will, and my father
swore lustily at them all. Several times I
attempted to tell him, but his determined
hatred of you decided me to wait until time
and your growing beauty had somewhat
softened his heart. At last my failing
health made a change of climate necessary
for me, oud as Tom Chcsebro was going on a
Toyage to the South Sea Islands, I decided
to accompany him, and then, for the first
tia^, confided my secret to Hannah Haw-
kins, bidding her put you in father's way as
mucli as possible, and, in case I died, to tell
him who you v ore. Then I visited Hetty's
grave, dotermiaed while there to tell my
father myself; and this, on my return, I en-
deavouredto do, butthe moment Iconfessedto
him my marriage, he flew into a most violent
tage, cursing me bitterly and ordering mo to
leave the room and never come into his pres-
ence again. Tlicn when I suggested that
there was more to tell, he said lie had heard
enough, and, with a hard, deliant feeling, I
left him, resolving that it should be a long
time before he saw my face again,

" We had a pleasant voyage, but remorse
was gnawing at my heart, and when we
reached our destined pirt, none thought the
boi/, as they called me would ever cross the
sea again. But I grew daily better, and
wlien at last poor Tom died of a prevailing
fever, 1 was able to do for him the very of-
fice he had expected to do for nie.

THE MEETLVO.

oiiu of the in-
riieil wr starteil
tolcrnlily well
l> I WttM a novice,
jrvici! in taking
;<1 in my arms.
;jvldng yuu with
(locMued there,
iH'iinl told niCj
I novor could
contrived to
)ut St was (luak
1 tlio (larkncsa
ave the cars at
ition got oflT on
)t and strikitik
i( a distance of
out a vacation
his familiarity
)lacing you on
3 diatunoe until
ok you in, ancl
i to the depot,
Pjping from the
3(1 me that all
v'hat lightened

now what fol-
Hawkins took
3 tile villagers
nd my father
evcral times I
lis determined
kvait until time
lad somewhat
it my foiling
Tiatc necessary
was going on »
ids, I decided
for the first
Elan n ah liaw-
ithcr's way as

I died, to tell

isited Hetty's
re to tell my
' return, I en-
1 1 confessed to
a most violent
rdoiing mo to

into his pres>
iggested that

lie liad heard
uit feeling, I
iiUl be a long
in.

but remorse
nd when we
e thought the
.'ver cross the

better, and
a prevailing

the very o^
le.

to India, having
id

I had

"After a tinio I went
beard nothing from homo, nithoiigli
written to my fattier twice and Hannah
<iiiu»'. I am anliaiiicd to confoBS it, my dar-
liiiU, but it is neverehelt'88 the truth, that
C'lulinuud ubsenue and the now neunus amid
wliieli I f'ltuid niyHclf in India, made me
Homewhat indilferent to vou — lew anxious
to see your face ; and sllil wncn I had been
gone from you nearly eight years, I resolved
upon coming home, and was making my
plans to do ho when accident threw in my
way a Hiek, worn-out sailor, Just arrived
from New York. lie was suficring and I
eared for liiiu, learning by this means that
ho iiad fiieinb in the vicinity of Becohwood,
aitd that ho had visited them just before his
last voyage. Very adroitly I questioned
him to see if he knew aught of the gable*
roof, or the eliild adouteaby Hannah Haw-
kins. Ho must have nien misinformed, for
ho laid that Hantinh Hawkins and the little
girl both Were de.id, and that one was bur*
ie<l while he was in Maylkld."

••Oh, I can explain that," interrupted
Mildred; "I was very sick with scarlet fe-
ver when llainiah died. The doctor said I
would not live ; wliilo Widow Simms, a
wonderful gossip, reported that I was dead."

"That must have been the cause of the
misundiTstauding," returned Richard, " for
the sailor told mo you died of scarlet fever,
and crediting his statement, I had no longer
a desire to roturn, but remained in India,
amassing wealth until I met E<lith's mother.
Owing to her blessed influence, I became. I
trust, a better man, though I obstinately
refused to write to my father, as she often
wisherl me to do. On her death-bed, how-
ever, I promised that I would come home
and comfort his old age. I knew he was
alive, for I sometimes saw his namo in the
American papers which iv.mo in my way,
but I had no conception of the joj'ful sur-

{(rise awaiting me in Dresiien," tvnd ho fond*
y kissed the glowing cheek.

"The moment I saw your face I was
struck with its resemblance to my sister's ;
and to myself I said : ' If it were possible
1 should .say that i' my daughter.* Then
the thought came ovt me, ' tiie sailor was
perhaps mistaken,' an ) I managed to learn

SAvept away all hope, es-
afterw ards you told
mother's name wan

your name, which
pecially when
me that your
Helen Thornton. There has evi*
dently been so.iie deep-laid scheme to rob
you both of your birth-iipht and of a hus*
band, and, as 1 do not quite understand it,
will you please explain to mo what it is
about tl.is Geraldine Veillu and Esther Ben*
nett, AVho is the latter, and why is she
interested in yon?"

- Biiefly as poasibl'i, Mildred told him of all

that had come to her during his abnenco, of
the fraud imposed upon her by (loralilino } of
Oliver's unfailing kindness, and how but for
the wicke«l deception she would that night
have been a bride.

" You only deferred the marriage until
vour father came," saitl Mr. H iwvll, kissing
tier again, and telling her how, on the mor*
row, they would go together to Beechwood,
and confronting the sinful Gcraldine, over*

you,

young
•I

man.

throw her plans. "And
he continued, turning to Oliver, "yon, il
seems, have been the truest friend my Milly
ever had. For this I owe you alifedong debt
of gratitude ) and though I am perhaps too
young to have been your father, you shall be
to mo henceforth a brother. My home shall be
your ht>mc, and if money can repay you for
your kindness, it shall bo yours oven to tent
of thousands. "

With a choktnjT voice, Oliver thanked the
generous man, thinking to himself the while,
that a homo far more glorious than any
Richard PIowcU could oiler to his acceptance
would ero long be his. ^ But he did not say
so, and when Mildred, in her old, impulsive
M'ay, wound her arms around his ueok and
said :

"bather cannot have you, Oily, for yon
will stay with nie and be my own darling
brother," ho gently put her from him
saying :

" Yes, Milly, as long as I live I will be
your brrther."

lb was very late when they separated, for
Mr Howell was loth to leave his newly
recovered treasure, while Oliver was never
weary of feasting his eyes upon Mildred's
beautiful and now perfectly happy face. But
they said good-night at last, liicliard takin
Oliver to his own room, where ho coul
nurse his poor, bniibcd f .ct, while Mil*
dred kept Edith with her, hu^o-iug hcrclosei
to her bosom as she thouglii ' She M my
sister. "

At an early hour next morning the three
assembled together again, and when the
lumbering ohl stago rattled down the one
long street, it carried Richard and Oliver,
Mildred and Edith, the Hrst two silent and
thoughtful, the last twu merry and glad aa
singing birds, for the heart of one was full of
" danfather Howell," while the other thov ?ht
only of Lawrence Thorutou, and the blissful
meeting awaiting her.

CHAHTEi: XXI.

THE MEIiTlN'J.

Park night had closed it; ii] on'nef.chwoo(Tj
but in thft siclc-rooni a ligliV \\as «iiir!y !)uri>-
ing, showing tho whito faoo of the nivalid,
who was sleeping quietly no\i'. Tiie crisis
was passed, and weak as a liM'o child ha 1^ .

MILDRED.

'^4

powerless and helpless beneath the mighty
•weight of sorrow which had fallen upon
him.

Gcraldine had been sitting with him, but
when she saw that it was nine, she cautiously
left the room, and steiling down ''ho stairs,
joining the Judgo and Mr. Thorn ',oa in the
parlour. Sinking into a chair and leaning
her head upon it, she did not seem to hear
the hasty step in the hall; but when Hepsy'a
shrill voicesaid, "Good evenin', gentle folks,"
ehe looked up, apparently surprised to see
the old lady there at th'it hour of the
night.

"Have you heard from Oliver?" she aakcd;
and Hepsy answered :

"Not a word. I'm gettin' awful consamed;
but that ain't what bruug mo here. Feelin'
lonesome-like without Clubs, thi/iks to mo,
I'll look over th<3 chest where I keep Hau'
nah's things."

"An allflred good way to get rid of the
blues," said the Judge, while Hepsy con-
tinned :

"Amongst the thinj^s was a box, which
must have been put awj;y unopened, for I
found in it this letter concerning Mildred,"
and she held up the bit of paper, wliich, hav-
ing been nicely rubbed and smoked by
Geraldine, looked old and rather soiled.

"Let me see it," said the Judge, and ad-
justing his spectacles, he read aloud a letter
from Esther Bennett, telling Hannah Haw-
kins that Mildred was the child of Helen
Thornton, and bidding her keep it a secret.
"This confirma it," he said. "There is no
need now of your sifting tho matter as wo
intended to do," and he handed the half-
sheet to Mr. Thornton just as tho sound
of many fe:t was heard in the hall with-

Richar*!, Oliver, Mildred and Edith had
come I The latter being fast asleep, was
deposited upon the tlocr, with Mildred's
satchel for a pillow, and while Mildred stole
oflfup-otaJrs, promising her father only to
look into Lawrence's room, and not to show
herself to him, Kichard and Oliver ad vanced
Into "^he parloui".

" Clubs ! Clubs !" screamed Hepsy, catch-
hg him round tho neck. "Where have you
been ?"

Oliver did not answer, but sat watch-
ing Richard, who was gazing at his father
with an expression upon his face something
like what it wore when first hu recognized
his daughter. Every eye in tho room wa?
turned toward him, but none Bcanned his
features so curiously as did tho old Judge.

"Who is it, Bobum?" ho whispered,
while his cheek turned pale. " Who" is it
standing there, and what makes hitn stare
so at me ?"

But Bobum could not t^ll, and he was about

to question tho slrangi/r, whc i Riohaid ad-
vanced tow.ard his father, and lay-ng a hand
on either shoulder, looked wistfully into tho
old man's eyes; then pointing to his owu
portrait hanging just beyoml, he said :

"Have I clianged so greatly that there is
no resemblance between us ?"

"Oh, heiven ! it's Richard !— it's Richard !
Bobum, di you hear ? 'Tie my boy 1 'Tia
Dick com(5 back to me again !"

The Judge could say no more, but sank
upon the Jiofa faint with surprise, and tender-
ly supported by his son.

Half beaide herself with fear, Gcraldine
came forward, demanding haughtily :

"Who are you, sir, and why are you
here 1"

"I am Richard Howell, madame, and
have come to expose your villainous plot,"
was the stranger's low-spckeu answer, ami
Geraldine cowered back into the farthest
corner, while the Judge, rallying a little,
said mournfully :

"You told me, Dick, of lonesome years
v/hen 1 should wish I hadn't said those bitlci-
things to you, and after you were gone 1 was
lonesome, oh, so lonesome, till I took little
Mildred. Richard," and the old man sprang
to his feet electritied, as it were, "with the
wild hope vt'hich had burst upoc him,
" li'.chard, wiio is mildred?"

"ilf// own daughter, father. Mine, and
Hetty Kirbt/s," was the answer deliberately
spoken, while Richard cast a withering
glance at the corner, where Gcraldine still
sat, overwhelmed with guilt and shame, for
she knew now that exposure was inevitable.

With a sudden, hateful impulse, she
muttered :

" An unlawful child, hey. A fit wife, truly,
for Lawrence Thornton."

The words caught Judge Uowcll's car,
and springing like lightning across the floor,
he exclaimed :

"Now, by the Lord, Geraldine Veille, if
you hint tfuch a thing again, I'll shake you
into 8hoo-string«," and, by way of demon-
stration, he seized t'ro guilty woman's
shouldor and shook her lustily. " Mildreil
ha<i as good a right to be born as you, for
Dick was married to Hetty. I always knew
that," and he tottered back to the sofa, just
as Edith, fdghtened at finding herself in a
strange place, begau to cry.

Stepping into the hall for a moment,
Richard soon returned, bringini'; her in his
arms, and advancing toward the Judge, ho
said •

" I've brought you another grandchild,
father — one born of an Enc^lisii mother,
Is there room in your heart for little
Eaith ?"

The eyes, which looked wondeniigly at tlie

v^-.K 1 Tiichaivi ad-
and layng a hand
Avistfully into tho
I "ting to ilia owu
'd, lie said :
•t'.itly that there i.^

5?"

•il .'—it's Richard !
18 my boy 1 'Tis
In !"

more, but sank
prise, and tender-

1 fear, Geraldine

laughtily :

cl why ure you

I, madame, anrl
vilhiinous plot,"
ten answer, and
:ito the farthest
allying a littJc,

lonesome years
saiil those bitter
were gone J Mas
:in 1 took little
old man sprang
were, with tlie
rst upoc him,

•r. Mine, ami
ver deliberately
it a withering
Gcraldino still
and shame, for
was inevitable,
impulse, ahe

i- fit wife, trulj-,

HowcH's car,
iiosa the floor,

dine Veille, if
I'll shake you
'ay of demon-
lilty woman's
i. " Mildred
■n as you, for

always knew

the Bofa, just
i herself iu a

' ft moment,

%'T her in his
lie Judge, liH

r grandchild,
lish mother,
lit for littlo

ni,g]y at tho

THE MEETING.

Jttdge, xvera very mnch like Mildred's, and
they touched a chord at once.

*' Ves, Dick, there'* room for Edith,"
retarned the Judge ; *' not because of that
Enfiilish mother, for I don't believe in marry-
ing twice, but because she's like Gipsy," and
he oflered to take the little girl, wno, not
quite certain whether she liked her new
grandpa or not, clung closer to her father,
and began to cry for "bister Milly."

" Here, Edith, come to me," said Oliver,
and taking her back into the hall, he
whispered j '* Mildred is up-stairs ; go and
find Uer."

Tho upper hall was lighted, and following
Oliver's directions, Edith ascended the *'>ir8,
while her father, thus relieved of her, began
to mako somo explanations, having first
greeted Mr. Thornton, whom ho lememlxred
well.

** Where have yon been, Dick? Where
hare you been all these years ? ' asked the
Judge, in a hoarse voice ; and holding his
father's trembling hands in his, Richard
repeated, in substance, what the reader has
already heard, asking li neither of his letters
were received.

" Yes* one ; telling me you were going to
India," returned the Judge; "but I hadn't
forsiven you then for mariying Hetty Kir'oy,
and I would not answer it : but I've forgiven
you now, boy— I've forgiven you now, for
that marriage has been the means of the
greatest happiness I ever experienced. It
gave Gipsy to me. Where is Mildred,
Richard ? Why dou t she come to see her
gmnUdad t"

"She's upstairs tissin' a man," interposed
little Edith, who had just entered the room,
her brown eyes protruding like marbles, as if
utterly conlounded with whas they had be*
held. *'She is," she continued, as Oliver
tried to hush her ; ** 1 seen her, and he tissed
her back just as loud as iuat!" and by
way of illustration she smacked her own fat
hand.

"Como here, you mischief !" and catchfcg
her before rhewas a»*r^ of his intea^tou,
the delighted Judge threw her higher thau
his hem, asking her to tell him again "how
Mildred tinted the man."

But Edith was not yet (ncllned to talk
with him, and so we will explain how it hap-
pened that Mildred was with Lawteiice.
After leaving her father, her first visit w«8 I
to her own room, wh
by Lilian, who, having
had retired early, and was (asi asleep. Not
oaring to awaken her, MiSdrad turned back,
and seeing the door of Lawrence's chamber
ajar, could not forbear stealing on tiptoe
toward it, thinking that the sound ot his
■brfcatUing would be better than nothing.

While slic stood there listvring she ho*v*i r»i;n *

Wfhisper, "Mildred,'* for he was thinking of
her, and nnconaciously he repeated the dear
name. In an instant she forgot everything,
and springing to his side, wound her arms
around his neck, sobbing in his ear :

" Dear, dear Lawrence, I've come back to
you, and we shall not be parted again. It is
all a fraud — a wicked lie. I am not Mildred
Hawley— I am Mildred Uoweil^Richard's
child. He's down-stairs, Lawrence. My
own father is in the house. Do you haar ?

He did hear, and comprehended it too,
but for seme moments he could only weep
over her and nail her his "darling Milly."
Then, when more composed, he listened
while she told him what she knew, inter-
spersing her narrative with the kisses which
had so astonished Edith and sent her with
the wondrous tale to the drawing-iooin,
from which she soon returned, and marching
this time boldly up to Mildred, said :

" That big msn pays you musn't tiss him
any more," and sho looked askance at liaw-
rcnce, who laughed aloud at the littlo crea-
ture's attitude and manner.

"This is to be your brother," said Mildred,
and hftin^ Edith up, she placed her on the
bed with Lawrence, who kissed her chubby
checks and called her " little sister."

" Y^u've growed awfuily up in heaven,"
said Edith, mistaking him for the boy -baby
who died with her mother, for in no other
way could she leconcilo the ide* of »
brother.

" What does she mean V* atkeA Lawrence,
and with a merry laugh Mildred explained to
him how Edith, who had been taught that
she tiad a brother and sister in heaven, had
mistaken her for an augel, asking to see her
wines, and had now confounded him with
the baby buried in her mother's coffin.

** I don't wonder she thinks I've grown,"
eald he: "but she** right, Milly, with
regard to you. You are an angel,'*

Before Mildred could reply, Richard
called to her, bidding her come down, and
leaving Edith with Lawrence, she hastened
to the parlour, where the Judgo was waiting
to receive her. With heaving chest and
quivering lip, he held her to himself, and she
could feel the hot tears dropping on her hair,
as he whispered :

•' My Gipsy, my Spitfire, my diamond,

I my precious, precious cnild. If 1 hadn't been

I a big old fool, I should have known you

ich'ahe found occupiea I '^^'^ ** Howell, and that madame couldn't

ng a slight headache, ' ^'^^'^ imposed that stuff on me. Haneed if

" * ' ' I ever believed it I Didn't I swear ulT the

time t'wasj aj lie? Say grandpa once,

little vixen. Say it once, and let roe hear

how it sounds I"

"Dear, dear gmndpa," she answered,
kissing him quite as she had kissed Lav •
-•aoe Thornto.n.

MTLDTtED. '

11 !

'* And Clubs went for you," he c«ntjoiictl
' Heaven bless oltl CUibs, but bow did he
Snd it out? Uaiigeil i( I umlerstaud it
vet."

Then M Ki» oyo^ feU on. iCi^rnUline, v,ho

cill sat in the- corntr, Sjljuiieli^U' a)id l)e-.

aldered,bos)iookliisli.statihiejptIircateaiiiigly,

•iddi-ng her tell ih a mi|v,vte wha^ ehc kuew

«£ Esther BcnActt and tlie qoiifoH#ded yloi.

" Yee, Certtkline," said Mr. Thoiutoa ad-
vancing tOTraivd her, " you, may as well con-
fess the pori you bad in tliisdllaic. liiit
nseless longer to try to.conopai it Oliver
heard eno»|[li to imiplicato you c^eply,, and
Mrs. Thompson," tuwiing to Hcpsy, •whom
greatly against har wiJl Oliver h^d managed to
keep there, "Mrs. Thompsou wiU^of gourso,
tell what sho knows, and to save herself
from "

"Utter disgrace," he was going to adil,
when poor, ignorant llcpsy, thinking he
meant ".7««V' screamed out :

*• I'll toll, all 1 know, indeed I will, only
don't send me to prison," and with the moat
astonishing' rapidity, she repeated all the
particulars of her interview M'ith (Jeraldiue,
whoso face grew purple with auger and mor-
tification.

"She bnunj; me tllat half sheet to-nij]jht,"
fald Hepsy, ia eonckiaion, "and told mc
w hat to do, sad said hew all she wanted M^as
for Mr. Lawrence to marry Lilian. There,
dear sir, that's all I know, as true as I live
and draw the breath of life. Now, pioaso let
me go honte, I'll give np the fifty dollars aiul
the silk gown," and without waiting for per-
mission, aha seized her grcea caJaaii, and
darting front the room went tearing dov/n
the w.:^ at « rate highly injunious to her
corns, anditiio "spine in her back," of which
she had reoently been compiaiuiug.

Thua foraak^i by Hepry, Geraldiue bowed'
her head, npou the tables but rcCused to
•peak, until Richard said to her :

*' MadantAk sileooe will avail you nothing,
for unless, yea con/eas tho whole, I shall to-
morrow morning: start in quest of Esther
Rennctl^ who will be compellod to tell tho
trntk"

i'liere was aomething 171 Hichard*s manner
"^rhich made Geraldine quail. She wa? afraid
of htm, and koovviug well that Esther would
ho frightened in betraying her, she- felt that
site would rather ti^o story fhoiild come
from horselt So, after a few hysi?rical sobs
and spatmodio aittiempbs tc speak, she began
to tell: bow she tirst overheard Mr. Thornton
talking to hii» «ou ot Kstiior Bennett, aot)
how the idea was thoa conceived of using
tliat information fcr her own purposes if it
should be necessu-y. Once started, it seemed
as if she could not stop until her mind was
fully unburdened, and almost as rapidly as

ilcpsy hcrNil^f she told how she had'gono to
New York, .ostensibly to buy the wedding
dress, but really in quest of Lstiier Bennett,
who was easily found, and for a certain sum
entirted in licr scrvico.

"Iwaflwell ncqnainted with the parti-
culars of Cousin Helen's m.nrriagc," she said,
" w»}ll acqibjnted witii Mildred's being left
at BcccliwoQd, and this Windc the matter
ejisy, for I knew just what to say. I had
{il«o iu my possesjsion one of Helen's lettei's ;
lior handwriting wns much like my' own,
and by a little practice I T>^odnced that let-
ter which deceived even Uuclo Thornton. I
told Esther what to say u;:-! do, when to
come to Mayflcld and how to act."

The Old Nick himself never contrived ft
neater trick," chimed in tlie Judge; "but
what in Cain did you do it for ?"

" for Lilian — for Lilian," answered Ger^
aldine., ''iShe is all I have to lore in the
wide world, and when I eaw how her heart
was set on Lovvrenco Thornton, I deter-
mined that she should have him if money
and fraud could accomplish it !"

"Yes, my fino madame,'' whispered the
Judge again, "but what reason had you to
think Lawrence would marry Lilian, even if
ho were Lilian's unci's ?"

" 1 thought," answered Geraildino, "that
when recovered from his diaappoiutnicut ho
would return to her, for he loved her once,
I know."

" Don't catch me swallowing that," mut-
tered the Judge : "he love that putty-
head l"

" Hush' father," interposed Riohard, and
turning to Geraldine, ho asked, " Did you
suppose Esther and Hepsy would keep your
secret always ?*'

"Idid not much care,*' returned O^rald*
ine. " If Lilian secured Lawrence, 1 knew
t)ie, marriage could not bo undone, and be-
sides, 1 did not believe tho old women would
dare to tell, fori made them both think it
was /*• crime punishable by imprisonment"

•♦And 80 it should' bo," returned the
Judge. 'fEvery one of you ought to be
hung as high as Hainan. What's that yoo
are saying about Lilian t" ho continued, aa
he heard a faint sound.

Geraldino'41 strength was leaving her fast
but tk\» managed to whisper :

" You must not blame Lilian. Sho is
weak in intellect and beUcved all that I told
her ; of tho fraud she knew nothing — noth-
ing. I went to Ai fortune-teller iu Boston,
and bade her say to tho young lady I would
bring her that though tho man she loved
was engaged to another, something wonder-
ful, the nature of which she could not ex*
aetly foretell, wonld occur to prevent the
marriage, and she would have him yet. j

a;
tl
i
ii

NATURAL BESUI.TS.

le had'goQe to

tbe wedding

ither Bennett,

a certain sum

ith the pirti-
ige," she said,
il"s boin>r loft
a the matter
say; I had
slcn'a letters ;
ike my own,
iced that let*
) Thornton. I
i do, when to

3t."

' contrived a
rudtfo : " but

iswered Ger^
love in the
low her heart
on, I deter*
in if money

hispered the
u had you to
.iliau, even if

Mine, "that
ointnieut ho
ed her once,

that," mnt.
that putty*

liohard, and
•• Did yoa
d keep your

ned Oerald*
nee, 1 knew
one, and be-
omen would
otb think it
risonment."
;arned the
>ught to be
that yon
lutiautid, as

ng herfaat

^n. Sho ia
that I told
ing— uoth*
iu Boaton,
iy I would
ahe loved
wonder*
d not ex*
rcveut the
im yet. j

also gave her a few hints as to Lawrence's
perscaal appearance, taking care, of course,
that she ehould not kno\v who wo were.
Tlien 1 suggested to Lilian that wo would
consult Mis. Blank, who, receiving us both
as strangers, imposed upon her credulous na-
ture thestory 1 had prepared. This in why Lil-
ian became so quiet,for,placin'? ijnplicit faith
in the womau, she belicfved all would yet
end well."

" You are ono of the devil's unaccounta*
hle3,"exohui)icd tho Judge, and grasyjing
her arm, he shook her again, but Geraldinc
did not heed it.

Tho confession sho had made exhausted
lier strength, iind laying her head n^ain upon
the table, she fainted. Mr. Howell and her
uncle carried her to her room, but it was
Mildred's hand which had bathed her head
and ppoko to her kindly when sho came back
to consciousness. Mildred, too, broke the
news to the awakened Lilian, who would not
believe the story until confinned by Gerald-
ine; then she wept bitterly and upbraided
her sister for hcf perftdy u^itil tho Wretched
woman refused to listen longer, and covering
faerhead with tho bedclothes, wished that
ah* could die. She felt that she was ever-
lastingly disgraced, for she knew no pdwer
on earth could kec|> the Judge from telling
theahameful story to her Boston friends,
who would thenceforth despise and shuu her
just as sho deserved. Her humiliation
seemed conipltto, and it was not strange
that the lapye of two days found her in a
raging fever, far exceeding in violence tho one
from which Lawrence was rapidly recover*
ing.

**I hope the Lord," growled the Judge,
"that the jado will get well pretty quick.

He did not aav •'op what," for Edith,
who was in his lap, laid her soft hand on
his mouth, and looking mdurnfully in bis face
said:

•'You'll never see my mamma and the
baby."

••Whynotr'hoaskod,

And Edith answered : "Yon noeared, you
did, end such naughty folks cau't go to
heaven. "

It was a chiMish rebuke, but it had an
eflfect, causing the Judge to nreasuro his
words, particuilarly in her presence > bnt it
did not chaugo his feelings tJwnrtlOeraUiine;
and as tho days went na and sho still grow
worse, BcoMoil and fretted, wishing her in
«iuinoa, iu Halifax, in Tophct, iu short any-
where but at iJucchwocvl.

Owing to Mildred's interference, his maii-
r-er changed somewhat towniid Lilttin. She
was not to blame, she said, for knowing as
little as sho did, and when he saw how really
Auxious sho was to atone for all she had

made Mildred suflTer he forgave her in a
measure, and took her into favour just as
Lawrence had done before him. It took but
a week or so to restore the brightness to her
face and the lightness to her step, for hers
was not a mir.d to dwell long on anything,
and when at last (ieraldine was able to be
moved, and bIip vjgc'k. «vith her to Boston, she
b.". le both Lawreiice end Mildred good-bye as
naturally as if nothing had ever happened.
Geraldinc, on the Contrary, shrank from theii
pleasant w<>rds, and without even thanking
Mddred for her many friendly offices in the
sick-room left a house which bad been too
long troubled with her prcsenoe, and which
the moment sho was gone assumed a morr
cheery aspect. Even little Edith noticed th<
difl'erencc, and frisking around her grand
father, with whom she was on the best oi
terms, she said :

" You won't swear any more, now
that woman with the black eyes hn^

gone

No, Beauty, aO," he answered ; "I'll
never swear again, if I think in time," — a
resolution to which, as far as possible, ha
adhered, and thus was little Edith the sourcu
of good to him, inasmuch as she helped to
cure him of a hiabit which was inureaeinL;
with his years, and was a mar to his many
admirable tvaits o| oharaoten

CHAPTER XXIL

KATURAL ttE8ULT.S.

On a bright September morning, jus*
eighteen years after Mildred was left at
Judge Howell's door, ti'.ere was a quiet wed
ding at Beechwood, but Oliver was not there.
Since his return from Drvsden he had nevci
left his room, and on the day of the wd
ding he lay with his face buried in the pil
lowS) praying for strength to bear this as he
had borne all the rest. He would riither not
see Mildred until helnad become accuBtoni<!il
to thinking of her as another's. So on thr
occasion of hur last visit to him he told h«:i
not to come to him on her bridal day, and
thbu laying his hand upon her hair, prayed
"Will tho Good Father go with Mildred
wherever she goes. 'A ill He grant her every
possible good, and make her to her husband
what she has been to me, my light, my life,
myidl*'

Then kissiug her forehead, he bade nei
gc, and not come to him again until she had
been some weeks a liap])y wife. Oft^"
during her bridaltoiir did Mildred's though tf
turn tAick to ihat ^sick-room, ami after hei
re^rn, her first question was for Oliver.

"(flubs is on his last legs," was th«
characteristic auswp;- of the Judpe^ whiW
Ricliard added : "He has asked for you

MILDRED.

I %■

\ \

often, and been bo much afraid you woulcl
nort be liere till he was dead."

"Is he so bad?' said Mildred; and call-
ing Lawrence who was tossing Edith in the
air, she asked him to go to the gable- roof.

At the sight of them a dsep tlnsh spread
itself over the siok man's cheek, aud MiKbed
cried :

*• You are better than they told mo. You
^ill live yet many years."

■'No, darlinp," he answered; *' I am almost
home, and now that 1 have seen you again,
1 have no wish it should be otherwise. But,
Milly, you must let me have your husband
to-night. There is something I wish to tell
him, and 1 can do it better when it is dark
around me. Shall it be so, Milly?"

•'Yea, Oily," was Mildred's ready an-
swer.

And so that night, while she lay Bleeping
with Edith in her arms, Lawrence sat by
Oliver listening to his story.

" My secret shouM have died with me,"
said Oliver, " did I not know tliat there is
some merit in confession, and 1 hope thus to
atone for my sin, if sin it can be, to love as
I have loved."

" You, Oliver?" asked Lawrence, in some
surprise; and Oliver replied :

" Yes, Lawrence, I have loved as few have
ever loved, and forthat love I am dying long
before my time. It began years and years
ago, Avhcn I was a little boy, aud in looking
over my past life, I can scarocly recall a
single hour Avhich was not associatftd with
some thought of the brown-haired girl who
crept each day more and more into my heart,
until she became a part of my very being."

Lawrence started, and grasping the hand
lying outside the counterpane, said :

"My Mildred, Oliver II I never dreamed
of this."

"Y'cs, your wife," Oliver whispered,
faintly. "Forgive mo, Lawrence, for I
ciiuldn't ludp it, when i saw her so bright,
so beautiful, so like a dancing sunbeam.
She was a morrj; little creature, and even sno
sc'und of her voice stirred my very heart-
strings vlicn I was a boy. Then, when wo
both wore older, and I awoke to tho nature
of my focliiij^s toward her, I many a time
lay down n[jc>n tlio grass in the woods out
vonder, and pcnyed that 1 might die. fori
hnew bow woisc ^'lau hopeless wa«« my
love. Oil. how I i.uthed mysf>lf J— how I
hated my tloformiiy, -ioU;?(n. ac tbr thought
of starry-eyed Mildicd v."/»king :.er regal
lieauty on such as mo. A\ ^ast there came
A day Aviicn I ea^-i & ■'\:<.a<vr ,-n hor
brow, and wit* «;cr ii-jad in my 'aj),
ihe told 1110 of lier iovc f? . you, whue 1 com-
pelled myself to h. .ii , ;;i:*.)n'7fi ov.fv word
bariied into my souL Yu. ^iow t'^^Teven^s

which followed, but you do not know the
titice stiuggle it has cost me to keep from
lier a knowledge of my love. But I suctcc.l-
etl, and she has never suspected how often
my heart has been wrung with anguish when
in her artless way she talked to me of you,
and wished / could love somebody, so as to
know just what it was. Oh, Lawrence J
that was the bitterest drop of all in the cup
1 had to drain. Love somebody I— ah me,
never human being worshipped another as I
have worshipped Mildred Howell ; and after
I'm dead, you may tell her how the cripple
loved her, but not till then, for Lawrence,
when I die, it must be with my head on
Miidieil's shoulder. Hers must be the last
face 1 look upon, the last voice 1 listen to.
Shall it be so? May she come? Tell me
yes, for I have given my life for her."

" I'es, yes," answered Lawieuce, •'she
shall surely come," and he pressed the poor
hands of him who was indeed dying for Alii*
dred Howell.

• ••••,•

Twenty-four hours had passed, and again
the October moon looked into the chamber
wJiere Oliver was dying. AH in vain the
cn»t night wind moved his light-brown hair,
or fanned his feverish brow where the pers-
piration was standing so thickly. All in
vain were Hepsy's groans p " the Judge's
whispered words, *' Pity, ^ity, and he so
young." All in vain the deep concern cf
Richard Howell and Lawrence, for nothing
had power iu »<«, o him, not even the beariti*
ful creature who had pillowed his head upon
her arm and wlio often bent down to kiss the
lips, which s.'niled a happy smile and whis*
pored :

" Dear, dear Mildred."

"Let my head sink lower," he laid at
last ; "so I can look into your eyes."

Very carefully Lawrence Thornton a 1 just-
cd the weary head, laying u more npo.i the
lap of his young bride, and whispered to
Oliver ;

" Can you 8p»j her now ?"
as," Yes," was the faint reply, and for a mo-
mcnt there wa.^ s;!c..-e, while the eyes of the
dying man dxed the nsclves upon the face
above them, as if tiuv fain Mould take a
semblance of those loved features up to
heaven. *^

Then in uo;..-" cimojt inaudible he told her
how hapjY she had mane )iis short life, and
blessed her as he had often done bpfore.

"Mildred, Mildred, dear, dear Mildred,"
he cent repeating, " in the better land you
Willi' low peihaps, how much I love you.
d;), darling Mildred."

The words were a whisper now, and no
on-' heard them save Mildred and Lawrence,
who passed liis arm around bis bride and

not know the
lie to keep from
Bull siictcc>i-
ictcil bow often
Lh anguish when
d tu me of you,
nobody, so as to
Oh, Lawrence 1
)f all in the cup
J body I— ah me,
ped another aa I
>wcll ; and after
how the cripple
, for Lawrence,
ith my head on
nust be the lost
oice 1 listen to.
come ? Tell me
for her."
.awteuce, "ahe
pressed the poor
i dying for Alii*

issed, and a^ain
to the chamber
All in vain the
ght-brown hair,
where the pers*
liickly. All in
!> " the Judge's
^ity, and he so
deep concern ri
ice, for nothi'jg
ven the beariti*

1 his head upon
'own to kiss the

mile and whia*

)r,"be eaidat
Ireyes."

liorntona'ljust-
[more npon the
whispered to

and for a mo-
Ithe eyes of the
pipon the face

would take a
features np to

|)Ie he told her
]short life, and
le bpfore.
[ear Mildred,"
Utcr land you
p I love you,

now, and no
Ind Lawrence,
ris bride and

co^CLUSTo^^

tiius encouraged he'.' to sit there while the
imlse grew each moment fainter and tlie
hliie eyes dimmer with the films of coming
death.

" Haven't you a word for me?" asked
Hepay, hoVjbliug to his side, but hi3 car was
dt-at to her and his eyes saw nothing save
the starry orbs on which they were bo in-
tently fastened.

"Mildred, Mildred, on the banks of the
beautiful river I shall find again the little
girl who made my boyhood so happy, and it
will not be wicked to tell how much I love
her— Milly, Miliy, Milly."

They were the last words he ever spoke,
and when Lawrence Thornton lifted the
bright head which had bent over the thin,
wasted face, Richard Howell said to those
around him:

•• Oliver is dead."

Yes, he was dead, and all the next day the
villagers came in to look at him and to steal
a glance a', Mildred, vho could not be per-
suaded to .eave him until the sun went down,
when she was taken away by Lawrence and
her father.

Poor Milly, her bric'al robes wore ex-
changed (or the mourning garb, for she
would have it so, and when the third day
came she sat with Hepsy close to the narrow
cotfin, where siept the one she had loved
with all a sister's fondness. She it was who
had arranged him for the grave, taking care
that none save herself and Lawrence should
see the poor twisted fet'-j which during later
years he had kepi carefully hidden from
view. Hei s were the last lips wlach touched:
his— hers the last tears wliich dropped upon
his face before they closed the coffin and shut
hitn out from the sunlight and the air.

It was a lovely, secluded spot which they
chose for Oliver s grave, and when the first
sunset light M-as falling upon it Lawrence
Thornton told his wife how the dead man
had loved her with more than a brother's
love, and liov/ the night beforo h) died he
had confessed the whole by wiy of atone-
ment.

♦• Poor, poor Oily! " sobbed Mildred. " I
never dreamed of that," and her tears fell
like rain upon the damp, moist earth above
him.

Very tenderly Lawrence led her away, and
taking her home endeavoured to soothe her

f;i-ief, as did the entire household, even to
ittle Edith, who, climbing into her lap, told
hor " not to ty, for Oiler was in heaven with
mamma and the baby, and his feet were all
straight now."

Gradually the caresses and endearments
lavished upon her by every one had their
effect, and Miidrcd became again like her
former self, though slie could never forget
tho patient, generous boy, who had 3hared

her every joy and sorrow, and often in hei
slopp Lawience heard her murmur: "Poor
dear Oliver. He died for me."

' CHAPTER XXIIL

coh'ci.usioy. '' '

A few more words and onr story is done.
For one short year has Mildred been a happy
wife, and in that time no shadow has cross-
ed her pathway save whan she thinks of Ol-
iver, and then her tears flow at once ; still
she knows that it is well with him, and she
would not, if she could, have him back
again in a world where ho suirered so much.
Well kept and beautiful is the ground about
his grave, for Richard's tasteful hand is of-
ten busy there, and on the costly marble
which marks the spot, are inscribed the
words }

In Me&ioat

Our Beloved Brothkb.

In tho distant city there is a handsome
dwelling, looking upon the Common, and
the passers-by speak of it aa the house of
Lawrence Thornton, and the gift of Richard
Howell, who made his daughter's husband
rich and still retained a princely fortune for
himself and little Edith.

Dear little Edith, how she frisks and
gambols abont her Beechwood home, filling
it with a world of sunshine, ani ■ sometimes
making tho old Judge f irget tho aching void
left in his heart, when Lawrence took Mil-
dred away. The parting was terrible to tho
old man, and when Mildred suggested that
Edith should live with her, hg c ^d alou't,
begging her not to leave him a ilone— ^
leave him little Beauty. So Beanty',
stayed, and every pleasant sutii
the Judge sits on the long piaz/
on his lap, and tells her or
girl who camo to him one
stealing in so quietly that he
she WAS there until reminded
falling glasses. Of this sto: Eiith is never
weary, though she often woi: iers where fhij
was about those days, and why she was not
there to help eat up the prunes, M'hich she
guesses "must have made Mil y's stomach
ache !"

As the Judge cannot enlighten her in tho
least degree, she usually falls asleep whilo
speculating u])on tho matter, pnd her grand-
father, holding her lovii; ') in his
arms, involuntarily breathes r. prayer of
thanksgiving to the kind Providence which
has crowned his later life with so n;aay
blessiugs.

Richard is a great comfort to his father,
and a ureat favourite in the village, -whp.

r evenint;

ith Edith

lother little

iter night.

: not know

V her of his

111; ORGU

Ilia genial nature and manv virtues have pro-
cured him scores of friends, and where even
Widow Simms speaks well of him.

The Judge lias mado another will, dividing
his property equally between SpitKre ami
Beauty, as he calls his two grandchildren,
and giving to tho " Missionaries," once de-
frauded of their rights, the legacy intended
for poor Clubs.

Old Hepay Uvea still in the gable-roof, and
«rhen her rent comes due, Jadge Howell
ieiulB her a receipt— not for any friendship
hQ feels towarrl her, but because she is Oli-
ver's grandmother, and he knows Mildred
would bo pleased to have him do so.

Esther Bennett is dead ; and the Judge,
when he heard of it, brouj^ht his ^st down
upon his knee, exclaiming *

" There's one naistanoo less in tho world I
Pity Madame Ccr<ildiue couldn't follow
suit !"

But Geraldine btda {air to live to a good
old age, though she is now very seldom seen
in the streets of Boston, where the story of
her pertidy is known, and where her name
had become a by-word of reproach. A
crushed and miserable woman, she drags out
her days in the privacy of her own home,
'omctimea weeping pasuonatcly n the re*

views her sinful life, and again raiTiag
bitterly at Lilian, not for anything in par-
ticular, but because she is unliappy, and
wishes to blame some one.

In Lilian there is little change. Weak'
minded, easily iniiuenccd, and affectionate,
she has apparently forgotten her disappoint-
ment, and almost cvuiy day finds her at
Lawrence's handsome house, wh«!re Mildred
welcomes her with her sweetest smile, lo
all the citythere is no one so enthusiastic in
their praises of her cousin as herself, and no
one who listens to said praises as complacent-
ly as her Uncle Robert.

He is very fond of his daughter-in-law,
ve^ glad that she was not a beggar's child,
and very grateful for the gold she brought
him. In nis library there are two portraits
now instead of one, and he often points them
oat to strangers, sayinu, proudly :

'•This was taken for my wife, the famous
beauty, Mildred Howefl ; while, this, is my
son's wife, another Mildred Howell ; and the
heiress of untold wealth. Hers is a strange
history, too," he adds, and with a low bow,
the strangers listen, while in far less words
than wo have used, he tells them the story
we have told — the story of Mildred with th«
•tarry eyes aud nut-Lrown iiair.

mutMsak

■ »

»<r«.

5 «

JL •'

"■ I 1

aRain railing

nything in par-

unlxappy, aud

hange. Weak*
lid affectionate,
her diaappoint-
ly fiada her at
, whefTO Mildred
stest amile. Itf
euthusiastic in
s herself, and no
s8 as complacent-
daughter-in-law,
a beggar's child,
rold she brought
are ttoo portrait!
){teu points them
ludly:

wife, thefamoua
^hile, this, ia my
Howell ; and the
Hera is a strange
with a low bow,
in far less words
9 them the story
Mildred with th«
liftir.